Another, of better of us
To raise her hands to a capo
At all times my daughter's
Will embrace his lapels

For in his fidelity I was found as
A faithful man

The lapel of Genovese
An Irish poem for a jelly belly runs to her arch

Genovese's Harps
How she cried Gino
Gaunt faced in my shame
There is wisdom
She waters no wells
Drawing her hairs
In seeds fading blooms
Gino, she has cried after love



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