ALWAYS EIGHT YEARS OLD/ TWELVE YEARS OF POETRY
the sun is rising here,
but it's setting for me.
Setting on a world that's
not all it's cracked up to be
woke up this morning, i knew
something was wrong
the blue bird stopped singin' his song...
the world was orange, the sky was green
a thief had murdered the queen.
oh don't tell me, no more no more,
oh don't tell me no more
that the world is good
that everything's right,
cause it's not.
it is setting--
the world's all right.
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