There was a young lady named Bright
Whose speed was much faster, much faster than light
She departed one day in a relative way
And returned on the previous...
Can I buy you something, can I wash your feet,
Can I read you poems of my thirsty retreat?
I'm a young nobody, I'm a perfect soul,
I can take you in, I can make you whole.
Will you be ascending in this midnight heat
On a flying buttress with stony feet?
In the revolutions we tear down your walls, and then
Redeem you, reclaim you, our Lady of Pigalle.
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