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I faced a blight of kind words
From a man in flannel trousers.
He was rough-good and poor
Though a peer of the best
Who work and play hard.
His walk was tom-fool cock-sure
Tingling every nerve-end
And his face was full of meaning
But his eyes were pointed-flat.
And my world was at his feet.
Well, why the sadness
Of a life that's not just madness?
Living life as if in liquor
You shall rise and I shall taste.
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