I say, and so say I,
My morning thought it knew itself just fine,
Until, across the room,
It caught it's first glimpse of my afternoon,
How can it be,
That these things live in me?

I say, and so say I,
My morning's day,
seems nothing like it's night.
My, night, so self-a__ured,
was all at sea when faced with dawn's strange world

How can it be,
That these things live in me?

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