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By slug Date: 2001 Dec 12 Comment on this Work [[2001.12.12.10.48.21805]] |
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rain stings the sidewalk in a weak attempt at winter in dallas but you're warm. the summer (of my soul) grows in your eyes and blooms in your arms if i were a bell... if i were a rich man... if i were a poet i'd write words that would make lillies cry and fairies dance and angels sigh if i were a woman i'd make you a man but you... you make a woman out of me. |