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Click hereShe sits there waiting, watching
And the raindrops spin on by
No hope for love salvation
When the heart too tired to cry.
Through eyes that see not happy
There the twisted waters turn
In torrents born of torment
They bless the acidic burn.
Cry not! Yet she cry inside
For the vision not to see
And memory that extricate
The life,
and the soul,
from she.