That the wind blows And the moon glows And our lungs grow We belong to the floating hand That s made by some animals And we all dance so We can let go And remove clothes And trade loans Like the type of tongue that roots from your breast And it shakes your pretty little clavacle A good friend Is walking To a homeland And inside land And to him I said You can leave your eyes at the horizon s dead door Cause you won t need them anywhere The children Spend the dawning And the morning Disappearing They reappeared as a seed of love You knowthe hard parts are vegetables We all know

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