The flish and the wesh
How they wash into each other
dark shadows slowly snacked on by morning light
And the heat of the sheets never cooling
Oh the rish and the wesh
And salted dreams crumble
Awakening proceeds and return to sleep seems futile
The warmth of the summer furnish a furnace for a bedroom
Oh the swelling and the alarm clock bellowing
First beads of sweat form timidly
Our pillows are out of shape
as our heads spent most of the night finding the best position to dream
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