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You ask the secret.
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tell me how / to turn my head to listen,
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And who has made hymns fit for the earth? for I am mad with devouring
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what it leaves behind. I used to think
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—just send me down forgiveness, send me down
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Such certainty is beautiful,
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The way a plastic lemon full of rags will drop,
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you drank coffee through a straw but it was more like
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Because living is one of the best things I go over
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What made me fill myself with me so squarely?