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At the Moonbase
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Slaughter Beach, Dog
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I met her at the moonbase We went for a passport picture She told me how her dad died She kept his bass in the basement And her friends at the bar were all drunk with compassion She shrunk when they wrapped arms around and slapped hands to bare shoulder blades Prayed some pedestrian gravity might pull hard at the end of her cigarette It was awkward in the car; it was easy in the bathroom It was true love in Denver; we were licking up the crumbs We were terrible dealers peddling head for favors In the pre-dawn blue forever Ah, ah Ah Ah, ah She was a big red bike and a lace-white dress And black canvas boots laced to the last eyelet On Columbus Boulevard With little brown spots of spent rain swept up from the bright, black street There were books on tray tables in airliner cabins Platitudes spilled onto petulant napkins All piled with good luck under an old truck-stop sign Where I caught a glimpse of your spirit through mine Where I caught a glimpse of your spirit through mine All piled with good luck under an old truck-stop sign Where I caught a glimpse of your spirit through mine Ah, ah Ooh, ooh Ah, ah Ah, ah Ooh, ooh Ah, ah
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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