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The Shins
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Weird Divide
Several days a month you made The mile to my house, And had me do a stroll with you.
Far below a furry moon Our purposes crossed The weird divide Between our kinds
The silver leaves of ailing trees Took flights as we passed so long ago But a short time I know.
It pleases me this memory Has swollen up with age. Even time can do Good things to you.
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