Sunday

day before yesterday

peppermint Christmas honey.
the love, she is right there.
our eyes meet, while the city
stands alone. she is the prettiest.
don't worry back home, nothing
matters anymore.
the tea in your cup is cold,
and the heart in your soul has mold.
ew, the mail man is blind, and your
history book is now mine.
don't mind the trumpet in the backround
he soothes the soul, from this nasty world.
always be nice to strangers.

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