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Sarah Shannon
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Postwar Hope
Fallen low, without a hope again
One gray morning
All alone, she sets out on her own
world is waking
and she lights her cigarette
a moment to forget
our intercepting lives
Will anybody ever know the reasons why?
Summertime of 1949
New York City
Daily news, he laces up his shoes
all ambition
now, he sees it's all the
wondrous dream
We don't know what it means to be alive
Is anybody ever really satisfied?
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