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Aug 2013
Like a discordant chord striking the piano deaf,
Or a saxophone that lost its swanky *** appeal,
When you breathe down the neck of my violin,
      The horsehair refuses to bow,
When you huff out your limitations into my harmonica,
      You disrupt my harmony,
Throwing me
                                                        offbeat.

[But I refuse to be beaten].
unless I'm a drum and you've got the right rhythm....
Written by
Sand
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