Time for the final bow
Rows of deserted houses
All our stable mates are highway bound
Give us our measly sum
Getting the air inside my lungs is heavenly
We're starting out
with nothing but crippling doubt.
We'll rest easy justified
I've suffered a swift defeat
I'll endure countless repeats
The gift of memory's an awful curse.
With age it just gets much worse,
but I won't mind

(Thanks to Grace for these lyrics)

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