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I know that I must live on just
to praise how I remember you;
who else would do the same
or just remember you as I do?

I must live on, if I cease to be
no worthy praise you’d get,
so even if you won’t listen to me
I’ll have to continue the serenade,

continue, repeat and repeat myself
memorizing the features I’d forget
if only I could – long forgotten they’d be
if I paused to consider what’s best for me.

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