In a time of sceptic moths and cynic rusts,
And fattened lives that of their sweetness tire
In a world of flying loves and fading lusts,
It is something to be sure of a desire.
_gk chesterton
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I know your teeth are shut and proud
But there are rhythms in the city
That make your head feel loud
Uh-huh so get it out, get it out
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