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I'ts hard to care about / the Supreme Court, or vacuuming, / or fiscal responsibility / when all I want to do / is listen to punk rock / and be your girl.
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I'd like for you to know / that you can skip the formalities. / One syllable can do / just as good a job as four. / But what is in a name? / Flowers behind ears.
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She is Sick to the touch and subtly falling away,
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You and I are phoenixes, occasionally lighting fire
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I watched you cry this afternoon; You choked tears held in since early summer.
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I will write you a letter so eloquent, you will be captivated by every syllable sounded, every decible dealt line by line. I could tell you
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I counted on your cowardice to make me feel like a queen.
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I'll tiptoe through your gallery, quietly watching the ladies and boys
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Oh, Genevieve. Where have you been these few months past?
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Alive in the night
Celestial bodies met
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I think it's wrong when
leaves fall the way they do.
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Hey, hey, hey.
Let's draw pictures of clouds
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Lately I've been thinking the most terrible things
My dreams are hauntingly satisfying
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When the sky fell down
on that bitter afternoon,
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Oh, I must have been asking for it
with those high heels and that smile
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How easily we lost track of time together
under my bed.
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The scent of your stare
and the taste of your touch
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I'm humming your silly, sad acoustic sounds;
You were my lullaby, love.
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I stare blankly as
my own freshly pedicured toes
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Summer found me
breaking promises to myself,
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Words fall, mouth to ears
Nagasaki love affair
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When I fall, I fall hard:
face first on the tile floor.
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Some people ask me
why I cut my hair
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I wanna be everywhere,
racing both ways in my single lane
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Your image is reflected in dreams long since lost,
yet not quite forgotten.
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As the ink fades,
as does your luster.
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Baby, I'm a hopeless romantic.
And maybe, could you stay a while?
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And wouldn't it be perfect?
You're a lush; oceans separate us.
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It was a stalemate of sorts,
As clashing egos met center stage.
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The morning dove faked contentment
as the sun rose one last time.
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I still have these dreams of you
that reflect nightmares I used to live.
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I'm devoted to self-help in the worst way.
Internal conflicts are hardest on summer afternoons.
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I've wrapped up my heart in green-striped paper.
And I'm humming the same old songs;
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Suddenly the world is convoluted.
I succumbed to hopeless apathy,
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