| Winter in Pigtown, bucket of rain
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| I swept the asbestos into a pile again
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| In my small room without a window
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| I was graceful enough just to be alone
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| I don’t know what’s come over me
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| The full moon or Infinity?
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| On my walk I found a watch in the snow
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| Second hand still ticking. |
| I slid it on my wrist slow
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| Though time was of essence, I ignored
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| Instead, to hide my face into the fat I’d stored
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| I don’t know what’s come over me
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| The full moon or infinity?
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| For tourist woman, vacation’s squalor
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| Is something to gloat about, especially the rent. |
| I’m sure
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| Come to me, sit with me, chain me down
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| Hair is growing in so many new places I’ve found!
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| I don’t know what’s come over me
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| The full moon or infinity
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| The soft light of candles fill the house
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| I am compelled to repeat my vows
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| Infinity whispers in my ear
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| Will my violence reveal itself away or near?
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| I don’t know what’s come over me
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| The full moon or infinity |