Pull me off like molting feathers,
lift me up and toss me to the wind.
Do whatever it is you want
I won't be passing your way again.
And it's a fine life
to just be walking through.
Lovers change
and night feels strange;
nothing else compares to you.
It's a fine time on that fine line
to be walking these streets home.
The moon wanes,
stars go insane
without vices and virtues we'd all be alone.
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