Words and Music by In any alley, nervously I could see your small fist White from clenching – it took A while to get its colour again And for me to unrumple the sheet What a pity your eyes Got in the way of my music, Because now –
How long has it been Since the lilacs and tatters And cutting to the bone to save our skins, My tender summer wraith? It's what I never wrote That I remember best __________________________________________________________________________ |
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