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I Must Confess

But I must confess that
At the bottom of the crater
They run no chance of sin;
Freeing the world carries signs
Forming a height of strangeness.
They were prosecuted for heresy,
As the play of the winds was alight,
Licking contortions and playing
With controversy, the way they were
So they would like to persuade

And engineer what the season spells.
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