ANGELS IN THE TAVERN

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THE SETTING SUN

Skins tender like a dove
Teeth whiter than the summer clouds,
Voices, soft and sweet
like the speech of a mermaid

Those were the angels that came into the tavern
On a Sunday evening,
I fell to their mantrap
So easy like a bushmeat

They appear so beautiful and gentle
So elegant and simple
Entertaining everyone with their
soft and melodious voice...

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