It's on my sleeve
It's sliced up in your sandwiches
It's floating in every bowl of cereal you eat
It stands in a tree and sings you awake in the morning till you throw a pillow at the window
If you want to know my heart
It's on my sleeve
And in my hair
And in my shoes and fingers
And in my chest
Big and sopping like a janitor's mop
Dragging along in the same arc across the floor
Over and over
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