So in line with everything. We hold each other's hands and we sing. We shake all the leaves that haunt all of the trees. There are feet beneath the knees. We're keeping the dust in the corner in case it might contain a piece of your face. A piece of myself and all that we've done. A piece of myself in the setting sun. Leave it to the witches. Leave it to the queens. Leave it to the girls who win at everything. Let's leave it and do our own thing. Leave it for the rich kids. Leave it for the thieves. We don't want to have to specialize in things so we hold each other's hands and sing. We dance with the dust that haunts all of us. Exposing our weaknesses to rust. Sun shine down upon your face. Columns of a dusty haze. I'm leaving you my books and my pens, the clues to where the stories end. Pictures in a box up on a shelf, relics of a vibrant self. Leave it to our sisters. Leave it in between. Leave a piece of you and I everywhere we've been. Let's leave it and do our own thing. Leave it in the gardens, leave it in the trees Leave it on the canvases and on the leaves, the heart and how it feels the sting. Leave it to the witches. Leave it to the queens. Leave it to the girls who win at everything. Let's leave it and do our own thing. Leave it for the rich kids. Leave it for the thieves. We don't want to have to specialize in things so we hold each other's hands and sing.
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