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Tamar Eisenman
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Bad Luck
The Gate was open
All you had to do was walk in
But your horse was limping
You were late to your own party
Too much faith leads bad luck
I hear the train rolling in...
The pictures album
Accessible and comforting
It was always summer for your bare skin
Still, / Every time you had guts to win
You got sick and passed it on
Choices, rhapsodies of mind
Really looking inside might have helped you out
Instead you were fishing floating leaves
Too much faith leads bad luck
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