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Oct 2018
They dance around my body in black and blue
They sing to my skin when I sit, fall
They paint pictures over my pale canvas

I don't know how to stop them
From dancing
From stomping

But there is one thing I do know

I can get away
Away from the person that paints
The woman that sings
And the man that dances though the night

I've done it before
How hard could it be
Written by
Zoe
134
 
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