Standard (EADGBE)

Curling lips, fingertips, dead eye dips

 I saw it all in the blackfield

Splinter cracks, summer tracks, paperbacks

 We found them all in the blackfield

In the shade, whistle blades, singing fades

 In the blackfield

She wants to stay and talk all day

 so I remark when it gets dark

 All the pale things under the earth

 Will reverse

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