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French sirens in her head Pink flowers on the bed Pale and faded Bruised and jaded A cycle of spooks and delights Heart is a question mark Tree is full of sparks Blue angel wings Birds that don’t sing The sandman is her best friend Exhausted with heaven on earth Tracing her steps back to birth How do things grow When time moves so slow She’s watering her own garden Now the bathtub calls her name Mystery, no longer her bane A kite flying in the sky A curious lullaby She now knows the meaning of life
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
Cecelia
French sirens in her head Pink flowers on the bed Pale and faded Bruised and jaded A cycle of spooks and delights Heart is a question mark Tree is full of sparks Blue angel wings Birds that don’t sing The sandman is her best friend Exhausted with heaven on earth Tracing her steps back to birth How do things grow When time moves so slow She’s watering her own garden Now the bathtub calls her name Mystery, no longer her bane A kite flying in the sky A curious lullaby She now knows the meaning of life
lucy-tonic
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
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