That was once our view.

It was my perfect view;

Out of the blue, a tree grew.

From then, there was no perfect view.

After that, our lives closed in,

And you, with your arrogance,

Your new-found taste for sin,

Plus your innate flair for spin,

Emphasised the symbolic side

And, harking back to sweet evenings

When we listened for the early owl,

Became impatie...

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