Snow on the river and two by two. Took a lot to live a lot like you, I don’t, go there now, but I hear they sung, their “fuck me And marry me young”. Some wild idea and a big white bed, nowy ou know better than that, I said, like a voice in the wind blow little crystals down. Like brittle things will break before they turn, like lipstick on my cigarette. And the ice get harder overhead, like think it twice but never never learn…

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