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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-05-25 | | Reading lyrics from gray-headed body he ran me over For all the books I put him through. Cold faith dries blood on the nib and Time is dropping short of intonation. Now I own the chance to go through his pockets, lay hand on some days and buy the 10th of December just for a breath to shake hands with the king, mend my old pest with the Nobel and win a million dollar ride to the other side.
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