funk
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Funk makes me move, it makes me groove
Listening to James Brown, I feel good
My friends told me that I dance like a schmuck
But I can't get enough, of that funky stuff
I might run out of luck, stuck in a rut
Unnerved, I sit perplexed at who I am
wondering who this girl is in the mirror
Who can I be in this world
Who can I lift,
if i can't lift myself out of this funk,
this depression.
His nosehairs gleam in the light
the sweat on his right ankle
smells faintly of peaches.
He only has one look, his look.
Though he doesn't know it yet,
he is a mermaid.