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The Water Jet Cilice

I knew this one girl

Drowned in her own curls

Candy colored swirls

That never seemed to endI could not comprehend

Half what she said to me

So casually

All our tender ears would bendTales of ritual self-torture

She's making you abort your carefully laid plans

To make a final stand, rest the world to hand

Scoreless victory for serendipity

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