Here's December, by Lydia.

Now I'm quite the same, I'm back in white, summer.

With forty lines, it's showing.

Brills and racing things, I think you can't avoid.

I, again, again, again.

Now this new world will go down my neck.

I'll kill it like those pills in your cigarette.

So I will think of her.

I'll mold my lips just so you won't have to.

And down in your cloud will go.

Stars keep moving away.

This is the first thing.

It's my month and a half.

I'll live in the heart like you.

Now you've been strong like a baby.

So hold it.

But forget it.

Every excuse.

It's all so sad.

I hide this one everywhere I look.

And it wasn't good.

And just like you.

...