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The best years And your sitting on your old filthy sofa chair, and the dogs watch you suspiciously, the raven outside watches you suspiciously, roaming though all the possibilities, all those things to do, that you won’t. the adventures, poems, women. you will not meet any of them, in nights not of the right kind, of madness. nope, never, not for you. you will lie back with your feet up, the hours will pass. the years float away like cardboard soul. these are the best years of your life.
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