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Eliza's

Your hair smells like Loon Lake, honey
your fingers swim and speak, silly
you take my usual words away
if I could remember what I felt
while I brushed my teeth last night
I'd sing it for you on a Sunday morning

Your tummy keeps me coming back
your glasses make me wanna do jumping jacks
I like how you like your mystery
like my niece and my granny simultaneously
yeah, you know you got me

But I have a secret romm that I don't show to anybody

I have no idea what you do to me
I probably pay much too much attention to ye
will you cut my hair? will you let me in?
will I let it be? will you shape me out of rusted tin?

Her insides are coming out of her insides are coming out of her insides are coming out of her fingers