| When he tells me I'm beautiful,
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| I am immediately red as a poppy and if not more.
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| Then I'll run my hair on purpose,
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| I never know what to say.
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| When I calm down, I will answer
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| at half mouth just like that: Wow, you're a liar.
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| But I secretly go to the mirrors,
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| I walk close to them and look at my face.
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| For whoever does not see beauty,
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| he won't add it to the world.
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| Praise the tree and it is full of flowers,
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| summer praise and thank summer and it is cloudless.
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| And where blindly man and woman go,
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| the blind will not find many miracles.
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| Praise the tree for the green leaves,
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| praise him and you will eat red apples.
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| And stroke the flower withered the year before last,
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| and thy rose shall be burnt with her.
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| You are beautiful he told me
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| he said, balm on my cheek.
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| And what a makeup cabinet can do?
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| what makeup, a few words is more.
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| After all, their sound made sense to my face,
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| how blood gives him arteries or quivers an arrow.
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| Yes, I have seven beauties in me,
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| so make sure you don't miss them, just look better.
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| For whoever does not see beauty,
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| he won't add it to the world
|
| Praise the tree and it is full of flowers,
|
| summer praise and thank summer and it is cloudless.
|
| And where blindly man and woman go,
|
| the blind will not find many miracles.
|
| Praise the tree for the green leaves,
|
| praise him and you will eat red apples.
|
| And stroke the flower withered the year before last,
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| thy rose also is scattered with her.
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| Praise the tree and it is full of flowers,
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| summer praise and thank summer and it is cloudless… |