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I suppose Lymon Willis is a question of how many flattened Coca-Cola cans you wanna count, how many people you want to watch teleport in and out of your life, how long you can train for an eternity that you know is 100%-nailed-on-take-it-to-the-robbing-bank-guaranteed stuffed with ghouls, how many fluorescent tubes you want to hear popping and fizzing over your head, how much shit you want to talk, how many piss-wet pavements you want to walk, how many windows you want to stand outside looking in, how many faces you can fit on. The boys have been blowing on a little tinder in Armley…