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Great Hollow She Home, the peacefully there's Mystery. Dearly she labours. Blood running, on to the summer flowers WAIT till I come, Left her, following low singing -- bare of everything Let us go! Go to the Devil! Scorching heat and burning -- hang her by the neck Thy trees mourned. She a Hollow labours.... Ah who was I that hidden from truly ----- Thy the end Erected so obscure away.
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Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
The Lamenting Lady
Great Hollow She Home, the peacefully there's Mystery. Dearly she labours. Blood running, on to the summer flowers WAIT till I come, Left her, following low singing -- bare of everything Let us go! Go to the Devil! Scorching heat and burning -- hang her by the neck Thy trees mourned. She a Hollow labours.... Ah who was I that hidden from truly ----- Thy the end Erected so obscure away.
Based on Aberdeen's history
marie-chantal
Written by
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
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