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Tamar Eisenman
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Bad Luck
The Gate was open All you had to do was walk in But your horse was limping You were late to your own party Too much faith leads bad luck I hear the train rolling in... The pictures album Accessible and comforting It was always summer for your bare skin Still, / Every time you had guts to win You got sick and passed it on Choices, rhapsodies of mind Really looking inside might have helped you out Instead you were fishing floating leaves Too much faith leads bad luck
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