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It seems my place is still vacant
O'er twenty times hath I been wondering the same
Now tis' time to wander off at last!
And to nod your head, and kneel at the Hades' gates.



Are the shades covered in snow mine or yours?
Or we just can't recall those warm September tides anymore?

One sleepless afternoon, the winter mist abides.
December envelops us all, in a gloomy lullaby.
Remake of an old, unapproached scenario.
Care to sing a long?