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22h
There is music that will play on,
when we are gone.

When we have slept,
And when we have weapt,
moving away
to a another day.

The music will still play
on for it's own
And for no one,

As when we are gone,
The stars won't be done,
They blink
They shine like a golden ink,

They will never leave,
They'll dance,
And we'll greave
And leave.

Just as we have always done,
And they will never do.
Can you tell I was listening to the cure when editing this?
J Diamomd
Written by
J Diamomd  15/Ireland
(15/Ireland)   
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