Sing with me a sleepless wonder,
for if not, I shall soon ponder.
If love of everlasting purity,
rests upon your brow with insecurity.
For if so, then sing with me not tonight,
nor any passing turns of flight.
I will seek no further your heart of tin,
but gold or silver, which I crave to win.
Sing with me until the killdeer cry,
As I tilt my head to your nodding sigh.
If love were to ever become lasting,
it would be now, as we breech the end,
of our hunger’s fasting.
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