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She say's her name is Lisa,
like it's something more than a name.
My name is Lisa,
the one that's left to remain.
Half is the sun, the other half is rain.
They say the good die young,
must be a reason why we're here.
Why we are here,
why is not exactly to very clear.
Lisa know's, Lisa knows.
Come across many doors,
some are open, some are closed.
What was the present is now the past.
What was the past is now the present.
People in this life have been such a trip.
Some you don't remember, some that you
can't forget.
Turquoise is the moon,
she rides a painted pony.
Time means nothing to Lisa.
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