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Borned King
by
Frog
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Picked up on the first ring Heard your bracelets jingle jing The sound of your voice hang when you knew that it was me The silver armor glinted in the noonday sun The squire closed his eyes and dreamed of Michigan The soldiers’ mouths watered as they gazed upon the gates of the Born King She bawled in the corners of legit estates Her nipples set out like dinner plates She pulled in close then hesitates Inside of the walls of the born king lord she drawls Abandoned swings men’s room stalls inside the walls The villagers they screamed In the grocery stores and streams The gracious mothers grieved closed the doors and wept for the spring Sometimes when I look at old pictures of you I could just crawl right through the frame All the boys and girls in the cab on cocaine The procession laid out like reverent thighs The magistrate with the batted eyes The field stained red like cherry pies Inside of the walls of the born king lord she drawls Abandoned swings men’s room stalls inside the walls Walking home alone don’t pick up the phone
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