Marie
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It was break of morn.
Birds were singing their yawn.
They weren’t in fur, my Marie.
It fit the feel.
You’re in for the kill.
They wrote it in for Lynn.
============================
It was break of morn.
Birds were singing their yawn.
They weren’t in fur, my Marie.
It fit the feel.
You’re in for the kill.
They wrote it in for Lynn.
