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Thursday, November 6, 2014

Ill. "Morning Stars" Album. By Duczewska and Schnapps.

She is mortally ill with affection
He is worshiped by crowds and cameras
She's a yogi and hates One Direction,
He adores her and drives a Cayenne

Tu es la mienne, he says, tu es la mienne

As he is looking into other faces
She is quiet and tearless
As he tears off her lingerie laces
She's irate but quiet and fearless

Cry me a river, he says
Go fuck yourself, she replies
Love cannot feed on tears
Love cannot feed on lies

She is mortally ill with desire
He delivers, but heartlessly tender
Are his hands, and she asks, please, fire!
But he never to her will surrender

Tu es la mienne, he says, tu es la mienne

And he takes her in his Cayenne
She's ashamed, but tearless still
Cry me a river, he pleads
I will, she says softly, I will

Je suis la tienne, she says, je suis la tienne

Don't let go, he says, don't let go
I will not, she says, never let you go
As they drink in each other's bodies
On the back seat of his Cayenne.