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They are useless hangup cures, All except that trick of yours. No one to leave the light on, To help you choose the right song. I try to do right, but it's wrong. Nothing feels right with you gone. Over hedges high, Climbs a smiling spy. Who now will shift your shoelace? And wipe the crumbs off your face? No one should get what you got, Nothing should end where you start.