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A middle aged song,
it’s been made with a groan.
After all, they say your head is where it goes to.
You’re in my arms.
Indiscreet industry.
Wrongly identified embryo.
In the roaring night we said we are in arms,
when we groan.
On this leyland moss, it’s mossy.
On this leyland moss, it came at such a cost.
On this leyland moss.
Edgeworth Johnstone 