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The Alabanda Breviary
Rome
To the end of the night
In hopes to find that warming glow
I kept heading for the lights
And anything they would show
Gun and bullet, pen and ink
I guess I wanted to know
Just how much of a stink
On can kick up at one throw
And I saw them...
All the roads we dream and never go
All the wounds we bear and never show
Grief has come to me now
And I smile all the while
Now that I ran out on you
I ran out on words
And of time
Do not scorn me with a love so bitter
Do not weep when I fall
Did you fine men ever consider
That a dream was the cause of it all?
Gun and bullet, pen and ink
I guess I wanted to know
Just how much of a stink
On can kick up at one throw
And I saw them...
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