We belong to the floating hand That's made by some animals
And we all dance so We can let go And remove clothes And trade loans
Like the type of tongue that roots from your breast And it shakes your pretty little clavacle
A good friend Is walking To a homeland And inside land
And to him I said You can leave your eyes at the horizon's dead door 'Cause you won't need them anywhere
The children Spend the dawning And the morning Disappearing
They reappeared as a seed of love You know, the hard parts are vegetables
We all know
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