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afraid no more, i say
in and of itself
do not turn your head
green afternoon serene and bright
skies they were ashen and sober
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
burly, dozing humble-bee
when night drifts along the streets of the city
she knows a cheap release
love me at last, or if you will not
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
now while my lips are living
full of tears
our pleasant moments fly

 



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