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What if you felt the invisible
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The moon in the bureau mirror
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If this trick works we can rub our hands
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Sing to me. Speak.
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We wake up in the deep hours
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Life don’t cost nothing but your sweet time
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Beauty crowds me till I die
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Nothing much we can do about it so we live
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I turn my blessings like photographs into the light;
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to the extent that time
