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Is it a world in the makingthat turns as it whistles to the depths of my beingIt is burningSuppose it were to appearA bleeding rosary at the windowa sun setting on the marshlands(“Silver Clasp”)
Is it a world in the makingthat turns as it whistles to the depths of my beingIt is burningSuppose it were to appearA bleeding rosary at the windowa sun setting on the marshlands(“Silver Clasp”)
