a blue neon cross on the tower
|
is shining over manila's streets
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where they are standing and selling
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their breakable dolls bodies
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she said she is twelve years old
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and her name is arlene
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on her left forarm
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are some small scares to see
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beutiful faces and the call of the flash
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40 dolars for a life without choice
|
when the trip is abating
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and a sober coldness through her body creeps
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she has the feeling to set her body
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from that crawling skin free
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so arlene cuts at her arms
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a fast cut with the razor blade
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empty eyes look tired and depressed
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unnamed glow in the eyes of nameless
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but ghostly white faces are still waiting
|
blow up forever the fat old folks
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I wish to hear a voice that shouts
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they should be sent into hell
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they should be sent to the sword
|
|
oh arlene don't cut yourself
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no more cuts
|
no danger to death no
|
no more cuts
|
|
-----------------
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The Tribute To Manila
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Love Like Blood |