i thought, early to bed early to rise would
wipe the witching hour from my eyes b u t
i speak of the p ast in shadows and f l i ts so
the midday c a s t of clouded eclipse , it's
years of siren song in seconds of day, this
the ghost minute that shh aids my decay, this
the ghost minute that spells my escape, this
the ghost minute that passes
†††
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