The Sorcerer Of Kalamazoo
Shonali Bhowmik
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Sorcerer of Kalamazoo I spilled my guts as a proper girl I wiped them up with a blue eyed boy While hanging out, he thought that he would dry Blackbirds came down and scrawled my name into his side. This is a small town, that mumbles under her breath The days have blisters on their feet The nights pray for rest Choking on the silence, he's a simple man. Wandering in the streets, bumming cigarettes What will you share? What will you concoct? Well as the sorcerer of Kalamazoo What pill will you hand out? What will you share? What will you concoct? Well as the sorcerer of Kalamazoo What pill will you hand out? The rapids were grand. They contain themselves Only fibbing to the congregation that pats him on his back. He looks good in brown, he feels best in black Like a thistle on the road There's nothing left to fight back. What will you share? What will you concoct? Well as the sorcerer of Kalamazoo What pill will you hand out? What will you share? What will you concoct? Well as the sorcerer of Kalamazoo What pill will you hand out? What pill will you hand out? What pill will you hand out?
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