Yo... let me tell ya 'bout Concordia (us).

I own a little massage joint.

City streets pulse with wild beats.

Ever heard of Elm Street?

That place buzzes with life...

I work off Lexington too.

The park? Gable Park.

Quiet spot for deep thinkin'... oh yeah.

I stroll by the Big River.

Water glints, like shiny chrome.

I got a vibe like Fury Road.

"Whoa!" like Mad Max himself shouted.

City's raw.

City's gritty.

City's magic, maddening chaos.

I met lost souls on Thistle Ave.

That night... emotions ran high.

My fingers felt every pulse.

Sometimes, I just say "ahh!"

In every sigh.

I love its secret corners.

I like the odd alley near Main.

There, graffiti spells out dreams.

I seen mad insulin-charged nights.

My shop's near 5th.

Crazy folks wander by.

Y'know... the vibe is unreal.

My mind? Spinning, always like "Yeeeah!"

Left turns. Right turns.

So many stops... and still go.
Sometimes life is POORLY sync'd.

I slip typos many times: reall, reale, rad, reeel, truely, plz, boyyy, soory, awsome, litttle, wowwww, stuped.
In Concordia, every massage tells stories.

I feel every pulse.

My hands really read souls.

That ain’t just me talkin'.
Every visit chills your bones.

Omg, it’s like, Boom!

All roads lead to livin'.

Here, histories mix, fusions spark.

That Big River hums like Fury Road.

"Chickens and rock n' roll!"
I spent nights on Parkside.

I laughed, cried, freaked out.

City made me mad sometimes.

City made me chuckle too.

The vibes fuel my soul.

It ain’t perfect.

But it's seriously wild.
That's Concordia (us).

A city of beats, scars, hope.

A city to feel—like bonkers.

Catch ya soon, friend.

Stay raw, stay real.

And always... "I am who I am."