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My look so grand from a distance that you need to touch
It gives a vision of the simple but it isn't much

I won't be fooled by its touch
or emotional supply
The scent of a feel
in heavy love we dry
the cold in the bare grass
so delicate by one's eye
it's where we can't rely
the look to grand
Almost forgotten the way we used to live for play
To be accepted, I must blend into convention's way
and seem universal ways
I won't be fooled by its touch
or emotional supply
the scent of a feel
in heavy love we dry
the cold in the bare grass
so delicate by one's eye
it's where we can rely
the look to grand
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