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We sell the world to buy fire,
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Change can only come,
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i want back my rocking chairs,
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Soon, my eyes, and I, will adjust.
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Can you hear me, should I trace from X to Y
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getting lost among wraiths means
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For years I thought of the buttered bread
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Things that are brave are often painful and
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i must be very old, like seventy
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imagine it: to keep going.
