09 June 2007

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I can't shake this feeling I've got but give me the punishment for the last.

There were five boys born, one towards the end of the 19th century, he married his childhood sweetheart as he made 19 years, shortly before the birth of their first child he answered the call of duty. He carried the flag in a certain way, then he smoked German cigarettes on his next Christmas day, he never made it home to see the second boys first nativity play, fighting for the cause in the war to end all wars...

Lost found, my lady one day will have a baby.

Some 50 years later a Spitfire was downed on a Sunday, August 1944 with the third, a Daddy, son of the second and what did we learn the second time around? (Never again?)

Broken house, my lady one day will save me.

She pleaded him (the forth) to stay but he started up his pick up and drove away. She called after him, don't you worry about me I've got a pocketful of wisdom up my sleeve and this night is young. She told herself, she had nothing to say but she'd get her way.

He was good to her, he was made that way she blamed this on destiny. He stops half way, he stops to feel the worst, he starts to feel so alone. It's not the way to end the day, he knows the dawn can't heal them.

There are things you should never have to ask twice...

This is a problem, with needs to solve, ignoring the door and expecting the provision of excuses. Lowly aiming for a half decent conversation. Doesn't matter where we go from here, without that height it leads to disaster; the fifth.


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