(In Memory of the late, Marvin Gaye)
It was April of Nineteen Eighty-four
When We lost the Man, We did adore
Aine life funny;Our not knowing, what's in store
At least, the One he lived, was far from a bore
Cause he had hit Albums, by the score
But, for what he stood, meant So much more
Since he, about being REAL,...
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