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no true solitude
you hear no echoes of your vagrant thought
it never seems to matter but you fear
that all will wither in the humid air
no one remembers what they had been taught
there are too many subjects for our care
you hear no echoes of your vagrant thought
you always think of what you should have bought
and all the limits beyond which you won't dare
to wander and the margins of your care
you hear no echoes of your vagrant thought