Standard (EADGBE)
Curling lips, fingertips, dead eye dips
I saw it all in the blackfield
Splinter cracks, summer tracks, paperbacks
We found them all in the blackfield
In the shade, whistle blades, singing fades
In the blackfield
She wants to stay and talk all day
so I remark when it gets dark
All the pale things under the earth
Will reverse
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