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Here am I, feet buried to the ankles in the sand Caliced fingertips stinging Playing off the beat of the tide A rhythm fit for a slow dance on the beach I shift from chord to chord, loving every second
This is so tangled,  I can't figure out what happened.  He loves her and she loves another  and now I love him.   Funny how you think this kind of confused doesn't exist.  
She was sewn into me deeper than I was sewn into her but cross stitched we made a pretty picture. but I was poked by so many needles that I became holy, not Mary, cest la vie, this is the way it came to be.
Waiting for someone.     On my pinky, the red string.    
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