nothing here to fear i`m just sitting around being foolish when there is work to be done just a hang-up call and the quiet breathing of our persian we call cajun on a wednesday
so we go from year to year with secrets we`ve been keeping though you say you`re not a templar man
seems as if we`re circling for very different reasons but one day the eagle has to land
out past the fountain a left by the station i start the day in the usual way then think -- well why not -- and stop for a coffee then begin to recall things that you say no one`s at the door you suggest a ghost perhaps a phantom i agree with this in part something is with us i can`t put my finger on -- is thumbalina size 10 on a wednesday -- so we go you tell me to cheer up you suspect we`re oddly even even still the eagle has to land out past the fountain pluck up the courage and snap it`s gone again i start humming "when doves cry" can someone help me i think that i`m lost here lost in a place called america
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