| A day, a day of difference.
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| A day is a gift to us.
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| Scars remind us the past is real.
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| The warmest touch can numb your skin.
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| A day, a day of difference.
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| «Life as it is?
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| I’ve lived for over forty years,
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| And I’ve seen life as it is!
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| Pain. |
| Misery. |
| Cruelty beyond belief!
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| I’ve heard all the voices of God’s noblest creature: moans from bundles of
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| filth in the streets!
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| I’ve been a soldier and a slave.
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| I’ve seen my comrades fall in battle or die more slowly under the lash in
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| Africa.
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| I’ve held them at the last moment.
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| These were men who saw life as it is,
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| But they died despairing!
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| No glory; |
| no brave Last words.
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| Only their eyes filled with confusion, questioning 'Why?'»
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| A day, a day of difference.
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| A day is a gift to us.
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| A day, a day of difference.
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| If we can learn to understand.
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| This language without words.
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| We can learn to understand, a better world.
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| «I do not think they were asking why they were dying, but why they had ever
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| lived!
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| Life itself seems lunatic!
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| Who knows where the madness lies? |
| Perhaps to be too practical is madness!
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| To surrender dreams; |
| this is surely madness.
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| Too much sanity may be madness.
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| But maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!»
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| A day, a day of difference.
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| A day is a gift to us.
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| Scars remind us of the past.
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| The warmest touch will always last. |