lullaby

sticks and stones may break my bones
But I will always be true,
And when your mama is dead and gone,
I’ll sing this lullaby just for you
What becomes of all the little boys
Who never comb their hair
Theyre lined up around the block
On that nickel over there

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This entry was posted on Saturday, January 21st, 2012 at 10:22 pm and is filed under dreams. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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