No, the moon does not keep me awake

at night, the torchlight, cracking your window

it may well be, can't say I'm otherwise aimless or free,

but such consolation are my lights on the road

that slopes away from us in gradual declines.

Give me your secrets tonight, pass me fire,

light to see your tumbling words by,

before the inner furnishings of your Fiesta

swallow and keep a...

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