262 10 2 
      
			 
			
			
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				Sometimes he dreams of dying on a train 
					
				 
				
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608 0 0 
      
			 
			
			
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				Down Hawkling Street,     The shadows have come and gone    The bar, torn apart from the cold and lonely bullets    The lights, they stay awake    No more kisses         She waits for the empty company    A shallow visitor to use and abuse    As she walks, they… 
					
				 
				
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1711 5 5 
      
			 
			
			
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				Crawl to the dark places I love most, loud music and off key laughter, glimmering green and brown bottles eagerly holding the dim lights overhead inside themselves like ransomed stars. 
					
				 
				
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