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"Well, everybody does that way, Huck." "Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody..."
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Showing posts from April, 2025
Your hair blows, the grass grows Sun yellow, cloudless blue Can't you tell, green angel How I love you ? She's my lady of the flowers She's a sweet herb with a healing way
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Feeling radical in cotton, purified in my satin But the bomb of the season is a velvet revolution
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Creation sinks Mountains bring Ages born through memory and lore
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But sometimes Under the stars Under their light You're everything right
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