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I will not compete with movies and TV, what memories, imaginings that keep you from moving.
Ill never win, so I refuse to compete with them.
Ill play until you listen, and all the while quite softly, tread gingerly through this boring song, until its as good as gone.
I refuse to compete, but well see what remains after long.
IN a damp and roiling forest, Ill again find myself hungry, with mother and father out buying something.
Brothers, I forage in vain.
I wasted everything, when I should have saved it for suppertime.