when a moon blue comes rolling round to boo
we sing our reckless pagan prayers.
i do too-
Rome hasn't died and neither have you
you're still there with your ponytailed wishes
and daddy do's.
i'll just have my boobs and eat them too.
but i don't really like them much, not much
compared to you. you're too too much
for me to.
but we all like these songs,
more than i'd like,
i want these natural moody prayers
anything to be like love; to think like you-
be near you, and feel you, too.
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