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New Age

de Mark Reeve

Suddenly I'm a cold front
Who put out the fire
When I said I was on it
Was I just a liar
One chance to please me
And I get queasy
This isn't easy
And you swore it would be
But as I get older
These hands that hold her
Are growing colder
Over the shoulder
Where do you think you are going?
And what gives you the right
When two hands are held together
Which hand holds too tight

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