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Writer's pictureSonia Kennedy

BLUE ROSE

I think of tears, I think of rain on shingles


I think of rain, I think of roses blue


I think of Rose, my heart begins to tremble


To see the place she's lately gotten to


Gotten to, gotten to



She's gotten to mysterious devotions


She's gotten to the zodiac and Zen


She's gotten into tarot cards and potions


She's laying her religion on her friends


On her friends, on her friends



Friends who come to ask her for their future


Friends who come to find they can't be friends


Because of signs and seasons that don't suit her


She'll prophesy your death, she won't say when


Won't say when, won't say when



When all the black cards come you cannot barter


No, when all your stars are stacked you cannot win


She'll shake her head and treat you like a martyr


It is her blackest spell she puts you in


Puts you in, puts you in



In sorrow she can lure you where she wants you


Inside your own self-pity there you swim


In sinking down to drown her voice still haunts you


And only with your laughter can you win


Can you win, can you win



You win the lasting laurels with your laughter


It reaches like an arm before you sink


To win the solitary truth you're after


You dare not ask the priestess how to think


How to think, how to think



I think of tears, I think of rain on shingles


I think of rain, I think of roses blue


I think of Rose, my heart begins to tremble


To see the place she's lately gotten to


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