Piano ivory, piano ebony wired softly to astrophysics (I like to think,)
My fingers fandango the stars fantastic, keyboard skipping is my trick.
Nicotine armpits, forehead pouring, are these the questions
you've been meaning to ask?
How much much do I love you?
How deep is your throat.
How high is the high?
I couldn't venture a guess.
How far is the journey?
Flip the coin, already.
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