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often i think of the beautiful town
to be able to see every side of every question
be in me as the eternal moods
her face is fair and smooth and fine
in their ragged regimentals
i love my life, but not too well
tell me not
lady, your heart has turned to dust
better than granite
this is the song of youth
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
glass-blower of time
i love to steal awhile away
the darkness

 



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