| Looking out across suburban yards to the construct of our days through the
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| thinning of the trees.
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| Why can I only build a house of cards?
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| That gets blown to pieces with the fall’s first fickle breeze.
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| When I feel that stirring, the illicit kiss.
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| That’s just the cool tongue of the devil with a sucker in his midst.
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| One day I’ll change you’ll be the first one that I call.
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| I owe you an apology too many thanks and that’s not all.
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| I’ve been running long before I learned to crawl.
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| My calendar lies crumbled laid to waste.
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| It’s been scrawled on, thumbed through and changed.
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| Will this be the measure of my days?
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| Dinners and appointments and deadlines I can’t make.
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| And when I start to see I start to see it making sense for me.
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| That’s just hope springing eternally.
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| Outside the summer’s gone for good.
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| Dying impatiens stacked up wood.
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| My friend will get together to cook.
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| To talk about what happened to take a second look.
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| The master loves the servant who blind heeds him.
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| The husband the obedient wife.
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| The snake will always bite the hand that feeds him.
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| Even if you love him even if you save his life. |