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matchbox
As a kid i use to sing,
through the summers and autumns and wonderous springs,
for the days to which we care,
when everyone was thinking to share,
as a prayer would split the sun,
and the the children would wish to run,
for the fairest would take the night,
as the visionary would curse his sight,
for i am just a man,
a prisoner taken from his land,
an together we shall take our stand,
for at once the trumpets will unfold,
as erect as a warrior so bold,
for my body has felt so cold,
and within it, the matchbox shall embrace and hold.
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