In the Concrete Jungle
A-fter the twilight ends,
N-ew dawn is about to break;
N-either dusk nor dark
A-ims to bring heartache.
A-s the Saturday sun
R-ises above the horizon;
D-ay eleventh of March
O-pens the burning beacon.
N-o more mist and haze to eliminate the thrill;
A-ll you feel is mirth, in the concrete jungle.
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