Friday, January 22, 2010

Just old light



Came to my bed told me that my hair was red. Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed.
Oh I cut his hair myself one night A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light.
And he told me that I'd done alright, kissed me 'til the morning light.
We couldn't bring the columns down, couldn't destroy a single one.
And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us, not even once.

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Irish, Canadian, Anxiety. Related to Mark Twain.

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