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Rose
by
The Oh Hellos
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Wars are raising for her Crusades to adore her The light of your afterword Are you losing her true nature When you loosen nomenclature When you gift another moniker? What’s true is like a sickle It’ll cut you to the middle That your rose is without a thorn But no, my mouth don’t taste of metal From the pot here to the kettle I think we got a lot we gotta learn And even though by any other name Her scent would linger sweetly, all the same Call her briar long enough And you’ll tangle up the true and the fable Your dowry, it ain’t fooling The pyrite is showing through It won’t buy you that empty tomb And no alchemic incantation For a counterfeit salvation Can appease your leviathan groom
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