the Psalms are written by wiser men then you
but they are thrown about
as your own words
i cant believe this
has boiled over in the pot
the water has all gone and now the rice
is stuck to the pan
it is burnt black
and i will never be the same
curly haired girls dancing in white dresses across a clear sky
kissing quietly
and lighting matches for the sulfur smell
their is a harmony playing out
and it causes me to choke
it was the year of the dragon
she was born
and she died in the year of the ox
my relatives know how to bury
the things they cannot accept
my only revenge is my happiness
and i am waiting for the cold
like a child on christmas eve
my beaches are hotter
in my absence
and your grass will never be this green
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