He said
I know
What to do
With your
Black heart
He said
I know
What to do
With your
Tiny limbs
You’ll fall
So small
From the trampoline
But it’s the cancer
They find
That’ll kill you
He said
I know
What to do
With your
Black heart
He said
I know
What to do
With your
Tiny limbs
I won’t grow up
I won’t grow up
I won’t grow up
I won’t grow up
Your bent posture
Through manor house
That sells relics
To college girls
But tightly wound
Through my fingers
It’s your long hair
That kills me
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