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Scrape my legs, the black hair long,
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I never understood different rules
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Who I am is not who I think Iam
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I know the truth
of the beginning of creation
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They wait
finger the cardboard take-a-numbers,
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Gravel voices
bourgeois men
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I want to you mother
for many reasons you;ll see
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Dance and celebrate
for the kingdom of God
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You don't know me
all you see
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Beauty it was once said
is in the eye of the beholder
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The sacrifice was great
and he carried pain for us
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Does a wood chuck chuck wood?
Or would he do something else instead?
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It happened one of those dreary
November nights when you don't want
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In the arms of my love and life
I laid down and cried last night.
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Crimson sun
ringed with pink
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night brings an unwanted visitor without knocking
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One: I am born and given up for adoption on day three.
Two: I move from the mountians nearer the city
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night visitor comes strobe lights flashing waking me
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Black horses agianst white fences gallop toward the barn,
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It
wraps itself around me
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Tenderly, carefully the tiny sport
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Clouds armed with rain, winds give song to the chimes
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I am a very fickle sort of fellow.
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