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From tender years, you took me for granted |
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But still I deigned to wander through your lungs |
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While you were sleeping soundly in your bed |
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Your drapes were silver wings, your shutters flung |
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I drew the poison from the summer's sting |
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And eased the fire out of your fevered skin |
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I moved in you and stirred your soul to sing |
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And if you'd let me, I would move again |
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I've danced 'tween sunlit strands of lover's hair |
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Helped form the final words before your death |
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I've pitied you and plied your sails with air |
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Gave blessing when you rose upon my breath |
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And after all of this, I am amazed |
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That I am cursed far more than I am praised |