They are useless hangup cures,
All except that trick of yours.
No one to leave the light on,
To help you choose the right song.
I try to do right, but it's wrong.
Nothing feels right with you gone.
Over hedges high,
Climbs a smiling spy.
Who now will shift your shoelace?
And wipe the crumbs off your face?
No one should get what you got,
Nothing should end where you start.
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