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Ho?
Naw
But you could make me cray-cray
And not in a good way
There won't be a blue sky
Over where the blood rose fell
Don't think I should ask why
Except they might have gone to hell
For one slight moment
Their souls did merge
In the streets of Gettysburg
The thorns scratched a dirge
luxuriating in downy bed
Porthault sheets and duvet spread
sighs and whispers, silken thread
laziness is naught for you to dread
but warm and welcoming instead