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There are days we live
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All I’ve got to show’s a splinter / For my little fling
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We are not unique, and we are.
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like when I can’t sleep I say to myself
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Is nothing,
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Pensées sauvages: wild pansies, like violets, have the shape of thoughts, savage thoughts, colored thoughts, sprung from a stem.
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I am happy.
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turns out
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the hills and rivers
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I was thinking of you
