One tenth of her.

I feel her talking thru my stand-up hairs.

Which of you, or does he touch them, or is he daft.

It's hard boys. Alone and old, it's really like her,

it wears her clothes, I might be, I might be.

But you're not me and you don't know

I'm back in the mine. Don't be afraid my love for you to die.

It stands its ground as i stand mine.

The ex-flesh of the temperature, I'm just as

beautiful as your light allows.