Lyrical Riffs Sometimes those blunders and regrets
Can settle in the quiet corners of our being,
Becoming dark creatures
That bare their teeth from time to time,
Frightening and subduing us.
We need a St George to conquer these dragons,
A tiny hero in disguise, lying there in December straw;
One with 3 scars and the slain corpse of despair in his arms.
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