Rifle aimed at the ceiling
Just the One instrument
And you must have liked it here
And you stayed, sitting down

"old blue monk now there's a pretty song"
Warm wet shadows
The high bones of women beautifully wrapped
And smoke and powders

(Dance among these)

(Dance among these)

(Dance among these)

(Dance among these)
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This Poem Is In Memory Of! Lyrics

Robin Holcomb – This Poem Is In Memory Of! Lyrics