ça coule ça roule la boule descends entre mes... entre mes doigts keep exploding nearer and nearer to the fields of time passing every tingly sweet time i miss you dear partner whispering ever so gently into the wind next to my scalp i miss you love singing into my nostrils i miss you where are you hiding? where are you sliding? the slopes are calling time stretches us pulling moments further from our fingertips will they forget one day? will your dust still be present when i pass through? the slipping onto your wrist will gracefully stay on my skin the turning of my heart onto yours is locked into time ça coule, ça roule, la boule
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