Well all the kids are sadBut some get over it.be thankful better than that,buy a hat Buy a coat or pet.Dance to forget.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cryFor you are born of tyrant spirits.We sing but oh the soil is lowunder our feet, and miles long;But let the world dream,We wear masks!
The season of soot, that brings forth bud and flower,is wearing a hill and a valley with green,The winged nightingale sings new,the tortoise told her his story
Now moving on with life,I force a loud grin,Questioning what went wrong,Wonder what could happen.
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To hear that great night,Even more immense without him.and the poem fallFor pasture souls like dew.