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Robin Holcomb - this poem is in memory of! lyrics
Rifle aimed at the ceiling Just the One instrument And you must have liked it here And you stayed, sitting down “old blue monk now there’s a pretty song” Warm wet shadows The high bones of women beautifully wrapped And smoke and powders (dance among these) (dance among these) (dance among these) (dance among these) |
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 The Funeral of God by Zao |
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