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Ahh sweet love Calamity Jane
In rough girl hands your guns again

I miss the days of Lord Geoffrey Jane
The horse faced con-artist she smiles
I watched him sell a man the moon

That's how good that stallion was
******* most charming horse that ever lived

But I digress, Jane swears at the stars
And weaves away drunk
To drink at the bar

Ahh Jane, it's morning again
The old days are bled out
All bleached in the brain

We can only hope honey, for you
after war, to keep men alive
love, is all you live for
What are you doing right now?
You...who were always on the move
Or sleeping beautiful on my arm
You are a soft fox, sweet, and haunted
You are my dreamy fox, curling in her burrow, dreaming of princes
You chat happily and unafraid of the English in my arms
You, who named her young after the prey you raised them on
You, with her ****** muzzle that snapped at the moon's reflection in the water
Leaving a wake of blood and questions
Do hunters prove you are worth while?
They'll put bullets into you  to take your life
But they can only take you dead
 They will be confused and mourn their loss
And they will load their guns again
Dementia

How are you ever
Going to get out from under this?
It hunts with its nose
It is brave from lack of sleep

Onions, computers, red cabbage, loss
This tangle of things
Goes to sleep in a knot

Is that you in the picture?
Take as long as you please

Come around back now
Fierce and rambling, blasting a request
For mercy with an air horn
Pointing to an unspecified time and place

A leaflet addresses your problems
You lose your ability to use language
Thoughts stack up but cannot be forged
There is nothing to be afraid of
Ash, Ash

Ash, Ash descend on me
I'm burning but I am not free
I'm looking at too much to see
A rock untouched by gravity

Ash, Ash I'll ask once more
These stables are an endless chore
I am at best a simple *****
But no one pays me anymore
A Storm Trooper Remembers


Lord Vader was always getting bees stuck in his helmet.  Eventually he learned to live with them in his way,

it was even rumored he kept a flower garden in the Death Star's attic, perpetuating his own affliction.  One time

pollen completely clogged his breathing apparatus and when he pulled off his helmet we saw that he was

wearing lipstick and eye shadow.  He claimed it was for a play he had been writing and that he had to stay in

character and then he killed a bunch of us and claimed that was in the play too.  Another time we caught him

smacking his head against the wall cursing Yoda, bees flying everywhere, we shot at the bees for hours but

inevitably didn't hit any, why did we even have guns?  One time the dark lord was speaking fondly of his

annihilation of Alderaan when huge globs of honey began to bubble from his mouth piece.  It was really hard to

take him seriously after that but I mean you had to, bees or no bees he could still choke the life out of you from

across the room.
In the corner there is a little door in the wall
You jam your hand up inside me
Twisting around in my guts
I gasp and whisper “It isn't love”

So you fall upon me mad
As a bumble bee buzzing
Hungrily and desperately lost without flowers
In my huge eyes “It isn't love”

You twist my **** and bang loudly
Into the back of my throat
Watching my tears mixing with my makeup
And again and again “It isn't love”
I set up a set of windows

They were clear and lovely in panes

And all of the incoming birds coming in

Shouted their incoming names

Smash “I am Peter!”

Smash “I am John!”

Smash “I am Alice, and free!”

And love was the sound

Of hollow bones hitting ground

My new friends piling up at my feet.
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