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Another love song sang into the wind
Another rainbow with no beginning
Another sad poem about these things
Another me strolling into town
No more lost than found
Or falling asleep in the lounge
As cotton filled as just another couch
I never expected anything more
From both life or the cornerstore
I never thought of both any differnt
Than plain old common repletion and persistence
Life is but life
Like traffic after four at night
Just another thing to get through

— The End —