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I hate / the thought, whizzing by in red clothes.
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always another campaign to march across
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Come, lovers of dark corners,
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The sky is getting dark tonight
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I live a small life, barely bigger than a speck,
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What / will I dream of? Horses
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Saddle me up my big white goose
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If you see me comin’
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My only advice is not to go away.
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inside these wrappings
