Standard (EADGBE)

Curling lips, fingertips, dead eye dips

I saw it all in the blackfield

Splinter cracks, summer tracks, paperbacks

We found them all in the blackfield

In the shade, whistle blades, singing fades

In the blackfield

She wants to stay and talk all day

so I remark when it gets dark

All the pale things under the earth

Will reverse

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