La Pared

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Is there anybody in there
Up inside my head
Either you be the ripest of pairs
Or the rarest of breads
Do you long for the liquid movement
Your idol has been gifted
No,to the Lord's atonement
May the clumsy curse be lifted
Not to be here
Just apart,to feel as yourself
Not of the same stature
Nor her amount of well
The hollow's in the head
Making thoughts dead
Eyes wide open,staring at La Pared





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