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Blue Chips In Middle Georgia I would take a chance to lose it all. Throwing gravel to tease the bats. I'm hanging from a thread She's dangling my neck from a windowsill While blowing embers in my eyes. They burn for a moment of her time, That is all I am apt to receive. This tasteless liquid in which you pour down my throat. I come to understanding If I lost it all, I still ache.