" It was the end of us,
Off with the blinds on justice
The two of us —
A hot mess.
Clueless, like Silverstone,
Lump and quivers in our throat;
We knew our fate all along.
Dinner plates have now gone cold,
We have reached the end of the road.
We stick to our guns, we cut and run.
The mourning period, has just begun. "
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