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Blowin' Smoke Judgements based on syllables in space And pictures fed through wires ever crossed Are recipes for egg upon one's face Or salad mixed from words so lightly tossed Some add a two to two and answer, "five" And claim to know the length and breadth of life Last week they didn't know I was alive This week my absence causes them great strife They say they never knew a brighter star Nor heard a finer voice sing from the stage Claims made from empty rooms with doors ajar Claims writ by inkless pens on empty page Remember, then, when sighing all those sighs T'was you who blew the smoke that stings your eyes |
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