Laura, are you still living there on your estate of sorrow? You used to leave it
occasionally but now you don't even bother to ride that commuter train west to
Chicago, to stroll through the greenery in the park past the statues. How their
eyes seemed to follow you like a hated addiction, their beauty carved out of
absolutes you could never claim or even envision.
Laura, you were the saddest song in the shape of a woman, yeah I thought you
were beautiful but I wept with your movements. But I hope that you're laughing
now from that place on the carpet where we shared a sleeping bag in your
sister's apartment. Oh how she would worry so, you know I was just a stranger
but she asked me to care for you, yes she did and I went and betrayed her. But
do you know we're in high demand, Laura, us people who suffer? Because we don't
take to arguing and we're quick to surrender.
Well I think I would call tonight if I still had your number, your thoughts they
always laid close to mine, we were both skipping supper. But you should never be
embarrassed by your trouble with living because it's the ones with the sorest
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