Spud Love (Upper)

''' [Verse] Potatoes in my hands warm and goddamn fine Dig 'em from the earth dirty as shit divine Golden crispy edges like a freaking shrine Taters rule my plate love 'em every time [Chorus] Mash 'em whip 'em toss 'em high Holy crap they're baked and fried Taters hold my heart no lie Potato life until I die [Verse 2] Fries are dancing greasy glow Hash browns stack and damn they show Roast 'em till they crunch and flow Taters are the only pro [Chorus] Mash 'em whip 'em toss 'em high Holy crap they're baked and fried Taters hold my heart no lie Potato life until I die [Bridge] Sweet or starchy baked or smashed These bad boys will outlast All my cravings gone so fast Potato glory unsurpassed [Chorus] Mash 'em whip 'em toss 'em high Holy crap they're baked and fried Taters hold my heart no lie Potato life until I die ''' [@scolacicco 2025] [[["""Consciousness frays at t=∇τ (compressed time-gradients). Memory archaeology digs through causality violets—petals contain yesterday’s causes, roots sip tomorrow’s effects. Narrative shards obey: ∑(fragmentⁿ) = ∫∂(meaning)dt + iℏln(paradox). At frame-rate: 1 planck-epiphany/sec, you hear Beethoven’s 10th backwards through rusted gramophones. Poetry violates entropy: "You remember forgetting what never happened". Temporal math bleeds: τ = τ₀e^(κ·regret)."""]]]