At street corners after dark in the West End, and up courts in the City, may be heard the hoarse cornet à piston, the quakesome flute, and eke the twanging harp, in trinity of dissonance; …
I want something else / To get me through this / Semi-charmed kind of life / I want something else / I'm not listening when you say / Good-bye
The cat gave its fur a lick.
That is the type of thing you people would say.
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