Onion lady blows her precious prose
And so it goes
Kisses to the crying cooks
Their bigs in books
With baited hooks

Chorus: And days away from your army
And spend with whimsy kings and slaves
A girl of God becomes a cash flower
A catalog of gardens and graves

Travelers diagram
For where I am
From where I am
Director of visional codes and overloads
It all explodes


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