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The hammer beneath your pillow
There to smash the head of your prince
When it turns back into a pumpkin
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The hammer beneath your pillow
There to smash the head of your prince
When it turns back into a pumpkin
I will walk in a city. I will walk In a city Over & over Over The course of 7 months, each day Feeling the inner warmth of pain As it breaks the ice of every muscle Walking through photographs and notes Of Doc Holliday, Bill and Grat... Continue →