Well I think the historians lied
I don’t think Medusa killed with her eyes
What more do such men fear
Than being slain by their own sword
And still 2000 years later
I hear what a pity
The hearts she’ll break
With her wild hair
The boys she’ll snare
It isn’t their fault
Women kill
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Oh hello there, who’s this?
I am not supposed to hear such things
I’d like if you returned your thoughts
Every last one of yours out of my brain
But I guess
Hold on,
I, I, I heard everything
And I promised I wanted it all gone
But
I’ll keep the memory of
the jay,
And
Thinking being in the cold
Would make you appreciate your own warmth
For intruding where I don’t belong
So they. The two. Belong.
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