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Posted: September 14th, 2005, 8:48 pm
In the morning when I get up
All the In the morning when I get up
way down
The haze in the street
The smell of life
Die, morbid thought
Is in all of us.
Even in the morning re-born
Even on that new day,
That big new and ever changed
And ever growing
And never dull
Hum drum of
City lights at night
That put me to bed.
The old man in the high room
In the corner
Giving me mac and cheese
And eating the mr. noodle
And angry about it
In the small, tv light room
On mount-royal street.
In the morning when I get up
All the In the morning when I get up
way down
The haze in the street
The smell of life
Die, morbid thought
Is in all of us.
Even in the morning re-born
Even on that new day,
That big new and ever changed
And ever growing
And never dull
Hum drum of
City lights at night
That put me to bed.
The old man in the high room
In the corner
Giving me mac and cheese
And eating the mr. noodle
And angry about it
In the small, tv light room
On mount-royal street.
In the morning when I get up