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Apr 2022
Your ears were trumpets
Your teeth were keys
Your eyes were drums
Their rhythms cease
Behind them the color
Of disease
Blue note special
There is no peace.

Your hands were golden
Your feet were clay
Your head was sodden
Your hips were grey.
Your legs were green
You paid your way
Now all we can do
Is sit and pray.
SøułSurvivør
Written by
SøułSurvivør
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