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My local songwriter the blackbird is up on his pole again. Most evenings when the sun is downing to the west he comes and gives us a concert, he has no score just opens his beak and  trills. There is repetition with variance and pause. Sometimes he is so eloquent that people in the street stop and listen and smile at each other content for a moment to listen to a genius granting us solace
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
the busker in black
My local songwriter the blackbird is up on his pole again. Most evenings when the sun is downing to the west he comes and gives us a concert, he has no score just opens his beak and  trills. There is repetition with variance and pause. Sometimes he is so eloquent that people in the street stop and listen and smile at each other content for a moment to listen to a genius granting us solace
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
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