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Two hands remain, |
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Two eyes I've embraced. |
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When confusion seems to have your face, |
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It could be more simple to disfigure, |
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And I'm sure, |
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I'm sure that it will be the greatest pleasure. |
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Look, |
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This wall has no longer the same traits: |
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Images take a shape when you turn them over. |
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Here, |
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Our refused smiles levitate in the air |
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Like this chair with no legs. |
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Acid clouds become our secret prompters. |
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We'll enter this room |
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Where noise walks solemnly, |
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Words have precious trailings |
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And glances are a blinding tune. |
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Two hands remain, |
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Two eyes I've embraced. |