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Ten hour shifts
not for the faint-hearted
and definitely not for me,
but She says,
baby
faint heart never won fair lady,
so
I win, I think,

One-nil to me.

She puzzles over this
I blow her a kiss
and slip back into the
dream.
I owe, I owe it's off to work I go
The debt is piling up the dollars come so slow

It looks like I took a turn for the worse
I hit a fork in the road and come down with
some kind of voodoo curse

These monetary blues I do detest
They've taken away my happy-go-lucky
and put me under house-arrest

My muse she flew out the door and is on-the-run
Screaming over her shoulder, it ain't a crime to be unhappy
but it isn't any fun

I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go
The debt is piling up and the dollars come so slow
smells like a song to me
Is it really
Out in space
Or a rendering
Looking to be
In a place...
I will not apologize
For the moon
Distracting me
Sikh and ye shall find
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