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Little girl. Terrified. Running girl.
Let it come. Let it churn. Let it turn.
You're battling all the dead-eyed
humans;
Holding on, grabbing on, getting burned.
Grabbing onto what they want to give you
'and it's cool,' yes it is, so you're
saying;
Snuggling warm through night-time mists
and dew
But in daytime, on knees, softly
praying.
Warm and soft to people who know you,
You're the tops to the few who do care.
But back home to suspects yet unknown,
You're afraid to give out, just to
share.
Come on back, come on back, little girl-
child.
Come on back, come all back, Peggy-
song.
Come on back, all back now, to the Voice
It will tell you just where you went
wrong.
Then you'll swoon while you see the
answer.
Yes, you'll swoon when you find your
strength.
And you'll know it's not false, it's not
the depth,
Oh no! More simply, it's the length.
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