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September

He never talked about it yet it remained

and the emotion of it, again betrayed

How could he hold his head high?

He never talked about it againHe said, let yourself be born again

He said, all you were is all you'll beHe couldn't live without it

before the rain

There's not regret about it

While in the fray

He took a spoonful of pain

He didn't think about it, he saidYou'll go your own way

First Sunday of September

On this great day

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