Oh I'm a twisted thing
Born of stone and overgrowth
Inkwells, and crooked feather pens
And you're paper thin
See-through, bound, and gilded
Oh a book, a thousand pages end to end
And I know that if I dogear any page
I'd tear it by mistake
If I fold or crease a single piece, I'd keep
From you
Oh, I'm assembly lines
Copy-paste machinery
A printing press, spitting out ink
And you're one of a kind
No chance of reproduction
Once in a lifetime
Then gone in a blink
If I add a single thing
The ink will bleed to every page
If my fingеrs stain and smear
There's no еrasing my mistake
On you
Born of stone and overgrowth
Inkwells, and crooked feather pens
And you're paper thin
See-through, bound, and gilded
Oh a book, a thousand pages end to end
And I know that if I dogear any page
I'd tear it by mistake
If I fold or crease a single piece, I'd keep
From you
Oh, I'm assembly lines
Copy-paste machinery
A printing press, spitting out ink
And you're one of a kind
No chance of reproduction
Once in a lifetime
Then gone in a blink
If I add a single thing
The ink will bleed to every page
If my fingеrs stain and smear
There's no еrasing my mistake
On you
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