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It's My Passion
It was since the days of black and white,
A broken, creaking mirror left to pry
Fixed on the farthest right
On parole, to see me within my passions,
In all my seasons.
It is in the times of sepia
There is a tree
Everybody smoking cigar, in two and three,
Puffin’ smoke around the Greenland singer
It was still growing and trying’…..closer to dying,
Zealousness within itself
Provides me with its protective timber
Cause it’s me…where passions ran high,
Cause it’s me….your handsome amber!!!
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