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lo my wife is all i see like a lost boy on a canoe lost at sea for the storm is at large my tears taste like salt from the sailing of the sea....my wife is all i see please set me free to a place where you and i can be, give me your hands come
Raspberry jam Caught in my hand Scathed thumb from the melted mozzarella Fractured and fused together Jigsaw memories
My little lady, Is going to work today. Dressed in her Sunday's Best, As she trots down Avenue A. She'll sit at a bench, For a near twelve hour day, Yet still will only make, Nearly half of my pay.