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Cherry Wine
Her eyes and words are so icyOh but she burnsLike rum on the fireHot and fast and angryAs she can beI walk my days on a wireIt looks ugly, but it's cleanOh mamma, don't fuss over meThe way she tells me I'm hers and she is mineOpen hand or closed fist would be fineThe blood is rare and sweet as cherry wineCalls of guilty thrown at meAll while she stainsThe sheets of some otherThrown at me so powerfullyJust like she throws with the arm of her brotherBut I want it, it's a crimeThat she's not around most of the timeWay she shows me I'm hers and she is mineOpen hand or closed fist would be fineThe blood is rare and sweet as cherry wineHer fight and fury is fieryOh but she lovesLike sleep to the freezingSweet and right and mercifulI'm all but washedIn the tide of her breathingAnd it's worth it, it's divineI have this some of the timeWay she shows me I'm hers and she is mineOpen hand or closed fist would be fineThe blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
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