The smiles were
Always pretty
And she said
“You are the son of a witch,
Brother to a vampire:
It’s no wonder you are crazy!”
The candles were
Soon gone
And she said
“I must have smoke,
I must use gold:
It’s no wonder you are crazy!”
Remaining days were
Travel-filled;
We danced
In a blaze of glory,
Kept the faith.
There’s a marvellous magic
to being crazy!
11/9/03
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