| I was born atop a Winter’s hill, I took form as a ball in the virgin snow
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| that started on its slow descent, barely more than 27 years ago.
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| And every ounce my love has grown, I absorbed another flake,
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| when this avalanche has hit, imagine the mess I will make.
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| A tidal wave from the tears. |
| Will you toil in the garden to dig a well,
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| deep to the core of the earth? |
| They’ll sob enough to douse all the fires of
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| hell.
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| I see you with shovel in hand, your skirt billows above your knees,
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| envy the soil that fills their pores and this perverted breeze.
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| And I’m full to the brim
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| Pull me up to your mouth
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| Let it spill, let it spill
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| And I’m full to the brim
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| Flood the North to the South
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| Let it spill, let it spill
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| all over us two
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| I take no solace in coastal breezes cos the quay is sea minor without you
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| Béla Guttmann of love, curse all my exes to a life of celibacy
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| and then while you freed the doves, I shot them from the sky for taxidermy.
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| An every day disaster, a bread and butter tragedy,
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| I sunk an oil tanker off the shores of Galillee.
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| You’ll find me upside down in the belfry, cos baby I’m bats it is true. |