In a faded black and white with a deckle edge
a barn holds an elephant
She carries the acrobat through the fresh morning air
Roses would be red in a chromatic future
Fragrance of heaven
Crushed in the powder
In the box on the back of the commode
Under the towel with the little cats' footprints
There will always be pickles in a jar
With a sprig of dill looking like a raped snowflake
Her white sunglasses were too big for her face
Her hair hung like yellow drapes
I stood glued to the asphalt
holding onto the car door
Gasping at the beauty in my path.
I didn't know there was an elephant club
Twirling batons on this secret path
For girls who lived to dream
a barn holds an elephant
She carries the acrobat through the fresh morning air
Roses would be red in a chromatic future
Fragrance of heaven
Crushed in the powder
In the box on the back of the commode
Under the towel with the little cats' footprints
There will always be pickles in a jar
With a sprig of dill looking like a raped snowflake
Her white sunglasses were too big for her face
Her hair hung like yellow drapes
I stood glued to the asphalt
holding onto the car door
Gasping at the beauty in my path.
I didn't know there was an elephant club
Twirling batons on this secret path
For girls who lived to dream
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