Just Give Up


Bad intentions and now you're stuck,

up the creek without a paddle, knee deep in muck,

nothing can change it apparently, not even love,

it doesn't fit... It doesn't fit... The black leather glove,

O.J. saves, and the throat chugs,

down the hatch before you can catch, home bound pigeons followed by high flying doves,

set free in the breeze on a magic carpet ride... Or maybe it's just been swept away... Out under the rug

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c-m-hall 14 months ago from York, Maine

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