[Thurston] Lay down your lucky hand, upon her heart morning becomes a kite, tangled up in stars laugh in the midday light, and leave - it behind move out into his sundry eyes, and sing, unwind Hang down your lucky head, a sign to time morning becomes the sun, for the dandy line sooner than the midday light, we leave behind love is out into the sundry light, you sing, unwind
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