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Orange Air
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How rude! How crude! She said that I should come to such an end With my hair too long to work at the local bank Her mother wanted her to marry the rich young son of some old friend And I did not quite fit in with just myself to thank. A long silent summer It didn't matter Who cut my hair or Who was my hatter. And then the night Jasmine came clinging to her hair and lingered there And there was orange air There was orange air I remember kissing her that sad last night through the screen so hard I had a checkered mouth and

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