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Sewing Needles

Thumbtacks and sewing needles poke up from the ground,
And if you come in here barefooted, stepping around,
They just might come up and out,
Come up and out, in your feet.
And if they do,
Only God knows what this reasoning will do to you,
And me.
At least I'll try to take care of you.
I will take good care of you.
Just give me all of your attention,
like you used to do.

And with your bandages shiny and new,
You left me alone in a lonesome bedroom,
I saw the footprints stained with blood.
They tracked across the kitchen,
With your toes overlapping the mud.

I tried to find another who'd motivated me,
Up in the mornings, the way you do.
But I don't think I'll find another.
I'll never say, "I do."
I'll never say, "I do."
Not the way I'd do for you.
I don't. I don't.
And I won't. I just won't.

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