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Billie MAG
That night, when you left?
 I went home and pulled out one of my mother's old vinyls.
 It was a little scratchy, but I played it,
 as the world spun slowly, in the dark.
 I grew old and wise lying there.
 I was a lady who knew the blues.
 That night?
 I was Billie Holiday,
 faraway eyes and dying lilies,
 bathed in the warmth of wonder and wear in a smoky bar in New Orleans.

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