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Pink glasses
oh honey, my dear,
I’ve fallen out of our love, I fear.
Though the stars still shine,
and the moon still sways the world goodnight,
all I see are the tears,
raindrops falling from the sky, from upstairs
of the dark gray clouds
as the sun starts crying out loud.

My little butterfly, I can’t follow you up high,
those wings of mine, that used to fly,...