Lost as the list that the wind
Whipped from a hand
And dropped
in a puddle.
That the author,
In a foreign land,
Holds in their mind,
Repeating and repeating,
Until it becomes a song.
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I t must be Summer 1982, my memory's not great for dates, but I can place it by looking up the facts on Wiki, plus she's wearing s...
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Close your critical eye; Listen and use every other faculty. Disregard the illusion of progress, Of individuality parading in succes...
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