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Opening my balcony doors and watching it fall
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like fresh white linen and then
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running across the street to the park to make snow angels.
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Yeah, that's snow when you're rich.
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The only snow angels you'll see this year
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are the six crack addicts frozen to our stoop.
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Oh, not to mention the adorable frozen horse
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we have illegally living in the backyard.
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Max, don't overreact. Chestnut's fine.
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It's not gonna snow for weeks.
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All right, have it your way.
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But I wouldn't want to be the next tenants