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letra de 'til your stories be mine - marsy mars

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in yours and mine
i’ve played a part

verse 1-
through this wilderland of splendour (pr-nounced ‘splen-dough’)
one woman, one man, will undergo many migrations;
now l, like a bouncing monetary arrow to its visa bower
have re-migrated to you, my sweet, s-xy listener
i just couldn’t resist you; i know i said i’d be away from track 5
but i figured, how better to harvest, trap, control, create the rhymes
than to allay with a holiday our minds? it is robin season
so when better to steal away upon a memory made?
of when i lost what i believed was my arcadia
and felt as the queen of my country felt
when she lost both the railways and zimbabwe
deported from my youth, my acne-hailéd jerusalem
but from whence i am a deportee
i leave a part of me
a brick laid by mortar of migrant soul
broke off from the whole folio, obliged to diversify

chorus-
helomine, get on the floor
let em be dumb no more
she dances just to turn the beat to sunlight
she dances just to turn the beat to sunlight
what love survives
is love sublime

verse 2-
before you ask, helomine is what i call my anima
sometimes the better half of me; the other 50
that which overfills me with magnanimity, k!lls the fierceness
i need to be truly good, not merely kind or righteous
i picked her up, some time on the path, don’t remember when
but it was after planting a foot on the continent experience, which i thought
was all it took to win it, as if i were a more dumb columbus
updone by an innocence just the ignorant can boast of
and that, really, is the only story i want to tell you
the song a song of the painful beauty that comes when realising
that you’re wrong, that your love lies and thus must be
buried, massacred by the reductions of truth it met
on that corner in orangeville or on that trail in yumthang valley
where i was wrong – i thought it was no good to give suffrage
to restraint, marry intellect to passion, if it meant i had
to self-tame as much as individuate, and on occasion
make my periods of superhumanly weighted exaltation marinate
but a little self-sacrifice to see prized loves prosper
and for me to prosper with ‘em just the same? if that’s the game, then give me strength

otherwise, i’ve got no time to play
i’ve got godkids to look after, a true love to penelopise;
i’ve got more digits in more pies than multiplied octopi

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