Take a line, here or there
inside, outside, everywhere
Crank a poem from the dust
dive into your trades red lust.
Pick up the mike to turn it on
You're a perfect picture, nicely drawn
You dedicate this one to Kate
but your face resembles an empty slate.
The mike gives feedback, loud as shame
but when you sing, they remember your name
BEGGING for you once again
pop open a new campaign!
Words are vodka from your mouth
sweeter then a northern south
So your river stops its flow
So the tree refused to grow.
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