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memory garbage packed in brown boxes little snips of a different time when things were easy when things were fine. a tinsel lost from its swinging vine the christmas when i first kissed under mistletoe its all gone except for the tinsel. there's a half melted birthday candle from when i turned seventeen i was lost for a while in a bright haired mile from smiling boy to goblin black. i remember this song summer of eighty-eight it's tied somehow to a brown-eyed girl who left without a trace. i dug that girl i miss her now it doesn't ever come back... some pictures of an angel, blue eyed angel, silly girl i fell in love with you. and i can't pick up this telephone because it weighs a million pounds and the sound of your voice rips me apart you're so far away from me... i don't want to find these pictures in ten years and see the girl this blue eyed angel and remember how she slipped away from me... © 1997, h e a t h . h o u s t o n |