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how hard it is singing everynite
in the same little burrow w/o u
to conquer me & i must say these
miners dont have taste like u my dear
ya & they dont know a lick about
Mahler & couldnt tell you the first
thing about Milton Friedman or Peggy
Lee. afterall they aren’t like u
or I my dear. no they’re up to their
eyeballs in hyenas & id bet most
of them dream that they were named
Robert or Saul & that their eyes
could be replaced with grandfather
clocks at any moment they desired.
yes its hard dancing here everynight
in this stupid lottery worker penal colony
but i do it just for you my dear
& i know youre out there somewhere
thinkin about me too & one day
we will be back together with a door
knob of our own & a jack-in-the-box
& a aluminum bottle to call home
& until then ill just wait here for u
& don’t forget to bring the milk when
you finally decide to come home


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