Man, Byron's wild, ya know?

Byron (us) is crazy chill.

I know this joint like my own cheap back rubs.

We got Broad St. smack dab in the middle.

Main Ave hustles with life, lit neon signs.

I stroll Pine St. sometimes – feels swanky.

Greed is good, baby!

I run a massage parlor there.

I see secrets others overlook.
This city vibrates like a raw nerve.

Local park "Maple Grove" is rad.

Trails twist sharp, rivers murmur soft.

There's a little river, Cold Run.

It says your secrets too.

I once relaxed a jittery exec there.
Hell, I even got a favorite coffee spot.

"Under the Skin" vibes echo close.

That movie? Man, uncanny, weird.

“I'm not here to be understood.”

That quote hits me sometimes.

It reminds me that life cuts deep.
Neighbors on Elm often stop.

I watch our regulars hustle.

I listen for quiet confessions.

Clients spill their guts right here.

Sometimes it makes me mad!

Sometimes I laugh.
I love our local dive bar, The Rusty Knot.

That down-low spot buzzes late.

I got gossip from every back alley.

Every corner breathes a secret.

Even the streetlamps hum tunes.

I swear, each one’s alive.
My own life’s quirks? Many, man.

In a hurry, scribbling notes.

Messed up typos? 16 or more!

I’m in a rush, dude.

I love Byron’s grit, raw truth.
I see souls in all faces.

Each massage cracked open barriers.

Like in "Under the Skin" – raw.

I once massaged a guy off Elm.

His manic grin flipped my mood.

Crazy twists, wild nights.
Byron (us) is love and low blows.

It’s like a neon dreamscape.

My massage parlor is the pulse.

The city’s rhythm is deep, man.

Each beat screams: "Greed is good."

I roast, I cheer – life's surreal.
Yeah, that's Byron (us) for ya.

Pick up the energy, soak every vibe.

Keep it edgy, tacit, mystic.

No script here, just living fast!