Currently True Bluegrass Gospel By Various Artists When The Saints Go Marching In see related

atrophy annie bends, to stoop,
to pick up a flower.

for her hair the trees wave and
the stars, they should sparkle, but atrophy
reaches her every half-hour.

the trees shook, their denizens free.
she faded into luxury.

curls of ribbons will part her delight,
and she pulls and she steals through
the dawn.

Fingering the wall at night, she
stumbles on her secrets. Thinking she
might feel too far, she wakes
through the window and sleeps on the lawn.

atrophy annie, remembers her name, and
summons a fig leaf to cover her shame,
and she bends, and she stoops, and she
supports our troops.