The sky has never been a wall
it has no borders to speak of
it takes my troubles everywhere
It's true that light is rationed--
but it's abundant by my birthday
(though scant at Christmas)
So I can read a book all day,
All Day. In a cinnamon haze
my sweet, dusty feast
_
it has no borders to speak of
it takes my troubles everywhere
It's true that light is rationed--
but it's abundant by my birthday
(though scant at Christmas)
So I can read a book all day,
All Day. In a cinnamon haze
my sweet, dusty feast
_
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