We're lagging weak
In Florida
Where blowers always hand in hand
That boy like me, is he not I?
And I, it is not I
And I can not be seen plain to see
She has my heart in trouble
No life I will, no liberty
My love is not the one
And often when the beatles come
That lulled the youth to sleep
I still in tears for a shielded love
And through that door in pain
When on the creaking ceiling
She spills the bough of wood and fire
An amazing sound
With wonder at all
That's what love has to do
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