The burden in my Heart is also for our good Name. I always knew they would close down the shop. The City Guilds sweeping shadows. A man in a Trilby hat dot's what's left of our pride, he plays fickle to our once Emporbium, sanguine like dishes of indisposition should bicker with the hand sewn purple curtains, like a sacrament permitted just that once at the time the betrayalΒ turned cold.