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my night walker
he listens to the solemn silence
he listens to the wind
and all around him
gunshots howling
people drowning
he cannot hear anything but silence
or see anything but a dim glow
the tramp that lives just down the road
asks for a coin
he walks straight past
as if in a trance
until as if by magic
the cry of the wolf is heard
he watches as the moon doth rise
and the senseless trance of day dissappers
this young man of mine
