I stalk past a warehouse that I wish were mine, and hum the chorus of "Richard Cory". My long leather trenchcoat billows behind me; my frizzy silver mane is a flag to match it. The shadow I cast in the waning autumn afternoon would suggest invincibility to a casual observer
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Thank you.
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This was really pretty and thoughtful.
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[I used to "front-load" them onto every entry for the last two seasons. I've broken myself of that habit, but since I think in music they still sometimes creep in.]
Thanks for reading.
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Now THAT would be an interesting fate for ye olde Face of Boe... not a nice fate, but an interesting one.
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