this fug and fog and somewhere lost in a bog,
cultivate the lostness.
Can't remember, came to this place
smelled your smell, saw
your face.
Heard a song about how long
and where the truth falls
as if there was
anyone or ever could be
The senior coroner is writing to the minister for justice
cultivate the lostness.
Can't remember, came to this place
smelled your smell, saw
your face.
Heard a song about how long
and where the truth falls
as if there was
anyone or ever could be
The senior coroner is writing to the minister for justice
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