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Pelted with signs reminders of how we was
You I try to find remnants of rousing cos
We tessellate retain what they gave us to
Fail relate what we lose in our grievous moods
Hues peruse with a delicate four zero two
Style defile cos she wants to sing after you
Number the edges keep track of all her keys
Humble the hedges with shapes that we ought to be
Hands were softer
Summer was faster
Skys in the puddles suns in the window pane
Rise from the rudders adrift in the baleful rain