Eggs In a Basket
Told Slant
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The love is gone if you have to ask it
There will be no sap tapped from a casket
There will be no hands held through the last of it
No hands clasped and vowels mouthed on mattresses
The love is gone like eggs in a basket
Reading old text threads, covering the date with my thumb
Pretending that you just wrote
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I love you, when are you coming home?