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Dirt on Fire

It's like God forgot to make me out of clay
and despite the futility of it all
There's some comfort in it
In bad habbits
In reality's dreams
That it's all taken care of by a larger than  life undertaker
We bleed stardust like rain from dark storm clouds,
into the seas again

mm-pa, mm-pa, mm-pa-pa

3 Apr 09

(define the words in this poem)
(26 more poems by this author)

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