Keep on moving,
Just keep going before it doesn't say a word
As it slips out under the talons
Of another predatory bird of silent songs.
There is a suitcase always in the corner of my eye,
But I need the time to try on every coat.
There are strange lumps in the pockets
And cold spots underneath their collars.
But do I stand firmly? Not at all.
I'm going out in the theme of retrograde
And with debts unpaid, I call the bluff.
I'm going far on a cup,
So a gallon is much enough.
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