Let the poets cry themselves to sleep.......... their, tearfull words, will turn back into steam ~ ........But me I'm a single cell, on a serpants tounge there's a muddy field, where a garden was. And I'm glad you got away, but I'm still stuck out here My clothes are soaking wet, and all you can say is cheeers
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their, tearfull words, will turn back into steam ~
........But me I'm a single cell, on a serpants tounge
there's a muddy field, where a garden was.
And I'm glad you got away, but I'm still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet, and all you can say is cheeers
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