<!-- Page Code:Q291c3RlYXUgLSBMYXN0iEdvb2QgRGF5iE9miFRoZSBZZWFyiA== --> don't tell me that you get sick of living when the summer's so forgiving although we have stolen all of the things that we though we had owned then have disappeared all these things in flavour won't do you no favours when the summer's light is fragrant with scents of returning you relent you resent
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