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Sugar In a Hurricane

Anita Lane


The whispers cut like hard rain
Like sugar in a hurricane
Like tears from a gun
All blood and sun
Well the holes from your pretty swords
I fill them up with hush
Hush words
And I hum
Shut your wings little flower
Shut your wings
Little flower

And fearing no-one
He said
"Bow unto me"
But no-one could hear him
So great was the grinding and gnashing of wings
Shut your wings little flower
Shut your wings

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