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This is the story of your red right ankle |
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And how it came to meet your leg |
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And how the muscle, bone, and sinews tangled |
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And how the skin was softly shed |
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And how it whispered "Oh adhere to me |
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For we are bound by symmetry |
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And whatever differences our lives have been |
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We together make a limb." |
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This is the story of your red right ankle. |
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This is the story of your gypsy uncle |
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You never knew 'cause he was dead |
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And how his face was carved and rift with wrinkles |
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In the picture in your head. |
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And remember how you found the key |
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To his hideout in the Pyrenees |
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But you wanted to keep his secret safe |
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So you threw the key away. |
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This is the story of your gypsy uncle. |
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This is the story of the boys who loved you |
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Who love you now and loved you then |
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And some were sweet, and some were cold and snuffed you |
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And some just laid around in bed. |
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Some had crumbled you straight to your knees |
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Did it cruel, did it tenderly |
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Some had crawled their way into your heart |
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To rend your ventricles apart |
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This is the story of the boys who loved you |
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This is the story of your red right ankle |