4:12
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The sidewalk speaks to me
Entropic glorious tales
Spun from fingertips and disembodied proverb
Their perpetual rhythms
Shake my bones
And you are, you are they say, suspiciously colored
But I wish they could see
Your kaleidoscope shadow
Your covert inspirations, the slight altercations you made
So no one would be bothered
Now the winter bleaches your setting eyes
Wrapped in Violet Silk
Soft and beaten
And the willows and candledrops ooze
Through a sanctuary where you kept all the part
They allowed you to keep for yourself
If you keep them away from me
And they say
You won't notice the graves
Lining up on the street with their bright shining teeth
And their hands out to reach for you to meet.
And they say
If you stand beneath the statuesque pilgrims
They won't bury your children in anything other
Than dirt in the carpet or blue on the wall or
Blood in the street.
And they say
That you can stand
On your own two feet
On your own two feet
On your own.
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