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Our bed is the epitome of careless love singing, _“Blue caress, blue sheets, blue dove”_ But creaking like broken bones And eyes so sleep deprived This voice was cracking And failed to verse the final line. So this is what we call rosy then A bare thorn without a flower? Your music transparently repeats our chilling song But still you sing, _“Blue promise, blue jay, blue flame”_ And with the softest blow We always fade away As bells softly chime A ringing cry, _“Blue dreams, blue freedom, blue winged bird of mine.”_
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Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 7:06 AM UTC
Ways of the Blue Bells
Our bed is the epitome of careless love singing, _“Blue caress, blue sheets, blue dove”_ But creaking like broken bones And eyes so sleep deprived This voice was cracking And failed to verse the final line. So this is what we call rosy then A bare thorn without a flower? Your music transparently repeats our chilling song But still you sing, _“Blue promise, blue jay, blue flame”_ And with the softest blow We always fade away As bells softly chime A ringing cry, _“Blue dreams, blue freedom, blue winged bird of mine.”_
Written by
28/F/Virginia
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 7:06 AM UTC
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