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lyrics

She smelt like tea and parchment
Or a Sunday morning in a dusty bed.
She tasted like the last of the lambs
Or a bramble left till the death of September. 
She sounded like a village road
Or the hymns of the lorries that roll through the night.
She felt as old as honey bees
Or as brittle as their happy comb.

She didn’t think that much of me 
But she was she, so I didn’t mind. 

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from Rust & Slumber, released August 7, 2015

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