A bunch of time that I chuck away on,
And to monitorize the slides hard
when the next page is coming...
morning and the moon bar
being apt to anticipate the blind one...
composed by a man who is sightless,
we 're the beads of a necklace under,
The quicksand that you put me on
The huge depth that I share with u,
In a land of bandit nerve center
That you handed...
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