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Josephine

Jo

Josephine is not your kind

She believes in magic and rhymes

You tried hard to make her fine

But she sleeps with acid

Do her parents know it's for real

When she asks them to be high?

I don't know but they sure will be aware of it

She smokes clouds every single night

Should be glad that she's alive

In her head she sees butterflies with pistols

Josephine is not your kind

She believes in ravers with dimes

You tried hard to see her eyes

But they're made for others

She runs to the club with some cash

And spends them all on pleasure

In her head there's some old drug

Taking care of her

Gets the very best of a man

And pays him with a laugh

Don't you see she is not a mystery?

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