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Rosemary

Boots were of leather, a breath of cologne

the mirror was a window she sat by alone.

All around the garden grew scarlet and purple and crimson and blue.

She came dead and she went, and at last went away, the garden was sealed when the

flowers decayed.

On the wall of the garden a legend did say, no one may come here since no one may

stay

Grateful Dead

Rosemary / Grateful Dead

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