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Every morning, when he’s awake
a taste of, of iron
No laughter no laughter
a taste of iron in his mouth
The smell of mold,
from the concrete walls
no laughter
inside the walls
Every morning, when he’s awake
a taste of, of iron
No laughter no laughter
a taste of iron in his mouth
All he want, is her a
new pair of shoes
To seal her skin on,
on her lonely walk
in the valleys of tomé
on her lonely walk,
in the valleys of tomé
