LYRIC

(Lots of Lalas)
You're no different from the friends that crease the wires
Or mosquitoes that now operate on her brain
Thought that if I sank the Seine I might find you
I might find you…
I'm not different from the clod they wipe from the stair
Or fake diamonds that are glued to eyes of plastic crows
Thought that where the planters go you might find me
You might find me

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