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In Your Hands

March 26, 2014

You make me to dance.

You make me to sing.

You want me to bow,

So you pull that string.

You sure seem to think

I’ll do anything

That you want me to do.

 

You tell me to sit.

You tell me to beg.

You tell me to juggle,

But just on one leg.

You’re so wrong for me,

But I just can’t peg

A way to get over you.

 

I’m clay in your hands.

You mold me like so.

You make me go places

I don’t want to go.

This madness must stop,

But I just don’t know

A way to bid you adieu.

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