| I pray under the light of tinted glass
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| Scan telescoped horizons for your mast
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| With gulls on the shores of all my lunatic chores
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| Calling, «hurry up»
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| Wary as complacency makes passes
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| Amorous in your absence
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| It’s late, my lover, should i let it go
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| Or wait for you to show?
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| Could offerings to crumbling shrines persuade?
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| I blow a kiss to Erato, she turns the other way
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| While crows on the wires stalk my carrion mind
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| Calling «hurry up»
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| Feeble as my apathy advances
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| Amorous in your absence
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| It’s late, my lover, should i let it go
|
| Or wait for you to show?
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| Now I’m hollow;
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| Breath, expression
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| Pressure and shadow
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| Unglued as i wait for your cue
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| Lark on the wind, do you have nothing to sing?
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| Come on, hurry up
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| Even as the irony enhances
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| I’m amorous in your absence
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| It’s late, my lover, should i let it go
|
| Or wait for you in my anxious hope? |