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A young wrinkled face with lips of grace
It was you who stepped back into the fortress, the gates
All had been lost in the journey across the seas
For it is said to be a beautiful girl in the dead city
Days are gone when she couldn't talk to you
Quit chasing time for there is so much to see
Follow your lead and speak to you
The time has gone when you sat far from thee
Try to find that same wrinkled face, not found
You assure her, it was glittery and profound
How lost in thoughts can she be with no sound
There is a life yet to see, and life too is round
Pulled you closer in liking, love or jest
Disregard the love in her you invest
Would she still be the same girl sublime
Could she find you any girl so fine
Closed a door on you, you locked like a mangle
Then she waltzed with you teaching the body's 'love angle'
From London Bridge to the Big Ben and all that, intense
Through Streets of Oxford and Bakers, with food all French
She is the same girl to you, all soft and warm
Could she remain the same after love and all, had been gone
Hope and all had been lost in the journey across the seas
For it is said to be a dead girl in the beautiful city, yet you don't want it to be
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