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Story Of Francisco

Hataałii

A glow
A shallow hole in your eye
And darkness, darkness rose
Just to get well-dressed
To look his best

To impress Beethoven and lilac girls
Who crawl together
Laughing matters and shooting stars
Passer-byers and whipping cars

And then the story of Francisco
Shot away by the unholy jester

Who in his eyes, didn’t seem to care
Your age-old stone breaks apart somewhere
By the child whose mother has lost her hair
To our great defeat limping up the stairs