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A Grief Ago (West Mountain Train-Lines)

That leaps nitric shape
So cross my eyes in your shack
Oh, water-lamed, roughed,
Crocus mending, staying up at the stocks
So cross my eye with your shape
and close my hand with your eye
She who was I, who is who I told
Oh, master, through a three-mast sail we grew
Through a three mast sail we sailed up
Housed in the sides.
Her ropes heritage
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6/17/2021 5:37:50 PM # 1.0.0.630