crazy dance holiness
No red balloons can get between us now
In the throes of this dance
That makes me say "Holy . . ."
And you say "Fuck . . ."
We've been finishing each other's sentences for years,
So it's only appropriate we finish with this.
While I know tomorrow, you'll slap on your polo shirt
And dust your shoulders off,
Considering me just another number,
I know you far better than you think--
And you're not thinking numbers tonight.
Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's
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