Listen a while, the moon is a lovely woman, a lonely woman, lost in a silver dress, lost in a circus rider’s silver dress.
Listen a while, the lake by night is a lonely woman, a lovely woman, circled with birches and pines mixing their green and white among stars shattered in spray clear nights.
I know the moon and the lake have twisted the roots under my heart the same as a lonely woman, a lovely woman, in a silver dress, in a circus rider’s silver dress.
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