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Oh, my beloved Tanya
How I long to see your face
Photographed in fifteen second intervals
In a bank in San Leandro
A Polaroid of you seen few
With a seven-headed dragon
In a house in Daly City
Don't be sad, my beloved Tanya
They say your father never liked Steven Reed anyway
Hired a detective to follow him around
And oh, my beloved revolutionary sweetheart
I can see your blue-stripped face turning yellow in the gutter
It makes me sad
And how I long for the days when you came
To liberate us from boredom, from driving around
From the hours between five and seven in the evening
My beloved Tanya
We carry your guns deep within our hearts
For no better reason than our lives have no meaning
And we want to be on television
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