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Pink Bullets - text

I was just bony hands
As cold as a winter pole
You held a warm stone out
New flowing blood to hold
Oh, what a contrast you were
To the brutes in the halls
My timid young fingers held
A decent animal

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin, and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as a song
The years have been short, but the days were long

Cool of a temperate breeze, from dark skies to wet grass
We fell in a field it seems, now, a thousand summers passed
When our kite lines first crossed, we tied 'em into knots
But to finally fly apart, we had to cut them off

Since then, it's been a book you read in reverse
So you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass, and awkwardly cast
That even I could be the star

I don't look back much as a rule
And all this way before murder was cool
But your memory is here, and I'd like it to stay
Warm light, on a winter's day

Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin, and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as a song
The years have seemed short, but the days go slowly by
Two loose kites fallen from the sky
Drawn to the ground in an end to flight

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