I had to circle back around, collecting the leftover stars Did not mean to leave those behind In my excitement of the evening I departed Before the deed was done So [she puts her hands on her hips] Would you gather stars with me?


It's all quiet and silence Not daring to reach out By telegraphic or telepathic means Retribution notwithstanding Whitewall tires slink by Sending silver reflections in all directions Sunlight filters through the blinds True bass shaking the window pane Sending ripples into the stratosphere

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