where memories come and, memories go to the globe of darkness turned a smoked window into the eye of my anger at being dragged into an arena the november man and, the winds around observe this day of crystal sound aesthetics imposed apologies surpassed manoeuvring evenings of broken glass and, truthfully pay and, truthfully stay under the axe of a burnt-out day and, truthfully pay and, truthfully stay under the axe of a burnt-out day...
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