| We slowed down
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| Stopped outside Prada Marfa
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| An abandoned petrol station
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| Or an art world sphinx or oracle
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| Glass, and beyond, shoes and bags
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| Like a weapon deposit slowly reflects your shape as a tiny hole
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| Black against the desert-scape
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| Black like a planet calling
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| Jupiter call her
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| Into the ether
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| Jupiter call her
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| Let her come, let her come
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| I should relate somehow
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| I am an «abandoned project»
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| But also a creature
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| Crisp and clear like the desert
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| Indistinguishable from clarity
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| Heavenly and high
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| The clouds' appendage
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| I could open my mouth
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| And pour out mirages
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| Like a song, I am always gathering
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| Jupiter call her
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| Jupiter call her
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| Jupiter call her
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| Jupiter call her
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| You ask
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| «Is it a real ship?»
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| But you meant shop
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| Could you ask if I am a real merle, I mean burl
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| No, you don’t gather
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| I watch my reflection sigh
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| Before goat and ram, I mean shoes and bags
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| Sometimes art is more real, more evil
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| Just lonelier
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| Just so lonely
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| Jupiter call her (Just so lonely)
|
| Jupiter call her (Just so lonely)
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| Jupiter call her (Just so lonely)
|
| Jupiter call her
|
| Jupiter call her (Just so lonely)
|
| Jupiter call her
|
| Jupiter call her |