Anita Lipnicka
Black Hand

His black hand
on my white belly
and I can't even pronounce his name

The saxophone
keeps on playing playing
origami birds fly above my head.

I'm 15
and I miss home
but only happy letters get across the sea

If not your eyes
that saw it all
I could easily pretend it was just a dream.

Dear Anna,
It's good you don't keep in touch.
How would we talk about it now?



Mirror lyrics:


How would we talk about it now?
It's good you don't keep in touch.
Dear Anna,

I could easily pretend it was just a dream.
that saw it all
If not your eyes

but only happy letters get across the sea
and I miss home
I'm 15

origami birds fly above my head.
keeps on playing playing
The saxophone

and I can't even pronounce his name
on my white belly
His black hand


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Bnlack Hnand hlack band hBlack bHand Bhlack Hband Bllack gand Back gHand Balck Hgand Bkack yand Bklack yHand Blkack Hyand Boack Haand
Bolack Hnd Bloack Hnad Bpack Hznd Bplack Hzand Blpack Haznd Blaack Hqnd Blck Hqand Blcak Haqnd Blzck Hsnd Blzack Hsand Blazck Hasnd
Blqck Hwnd Blqack Hwand Blaqck Hawnd Blsck Hxnd Blsack Hxand Blasck Haxnd



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