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I’ll read you a story tonight; and you’ll fall asleep in my arms. A fairy tale. It’s settled – the fairy tale of us, for us. You’ll fall asleep and forget about all the evils of the world, and my arms will be nothing less than your home.

“This is a song for a scribbled-down name.”

We started out as beggars. But are we any more than that now? Begging the heavens for love not to leave us and for hope in what’s not palpable not to desert us; beggars praying for a shelter from the winter frost, for warm arms to keeps our souls alight and alive.

Just listen to the story. Just breathe my words; they’re cinnamon and orange scented. Close your eyes and dream, my dear.