Pray hard like a pious pope
but hope for no diamonds.
If some divine Simon spoke
or came down to find us--
Caught here in our lab coats,
but without a science--
Would we see light?
I might decide,
While I'm a live I'll feel alive,
And what's next I guess I'll
know when I've gotten there.
Am I careful til past dull?
Will be, is, or has been?
Hope I'm waxing as in half-full,
Lit-wick candles lasting. Born
Lonesome, bald, and bashful
with a nastinnati accent.
On the East Side.
Oh, I can decide,
While I'm a live I'll feel alive,
And what's next I guess I'll
know when I've gotten there.
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