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Last Waltz
Far and away
A life time ago
I had met him-
In a slow waltz
Of falling snow
From a northern
Blowing icy cold-
And frosty fingers
Of a frothing man
A Iced morbid land
Men never sleep
Almost every man
Hoping for death-
Or their crystal sand
No one gets warmer
It just causes grief
We sit, and we pray
To morn warm men -
Who have passed
Through the end
To do a slow waltz
On this bitter land
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All I know I know because I have the fortune or misfortune of having to teach myself. -- Yehthatsme
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