| She was walking down a sidewalk
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| Sniffing, sniffing in the wind
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| Thinking of everything and nothing
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| Just another flighty human being
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| And satellites were arcing
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| Undetected overhead
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| Her cells were busy splitting
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| Engenacing the dead
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| Beauty is as beauty does
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| In the eyes of the beholder
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| Or collectively in all of us
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| She was waving to a cyclist
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| As he went coasting past
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| In through a lazy intersection
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| Toward the remainder of his life
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| And a ferrell cat went dashing
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| Behind a dumpster there
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| Which displaced a brown rat
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| Which went fleeing with a comical flair
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| We are trapped but we are free
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| To go through the motions
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| And be just as happy as we can be
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| And later on I held her in my skinny arms
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| My chapped lips were whispering esoteric alarms
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| But her warm breath assuaged me and the music returned
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| We continued dancing while big forest fires burned
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| Space is spooky and time it is a trip
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| Don’t let the preachers, teachers, hipsters fool you
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| There ain’t no rips in the fabric |