The old transport van trundles past
Sleeping dogs with wind in the eyes
And its fleas with wind in their eyes.
There is no old wind under the door
But the old with a wind in their eyes,
Who have a wind in their old bodies.
The old transport van trundles past
Sleeping dogs with wind in the eyes
And its fleas with wind in their eyes.
There is no old wind under the door
But the old with a wind in their eyes,
Who have a wind in their old bodies.
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