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A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z Weeds (K.J.Garside C.Gray) There is an anger comes off this girl, That she can't find an origin, The things I plant won't grow, Yet the wild weeds flower in wind and snow. Nothing to be nothing to prove, Nowhere to go nothing to lose. When will my season come, Was I born of infertile soil, Is my seed without song, Can I not see the woods for these forests in my head, Can I not see the sunlight as I play dead? Nothing to be nothing to prove, Nowhere to go nothing to lose. |
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