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"O the mind, mind, has mountains, cliffs of fall,
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"Frightful, sheer, no-man travelled.
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"Hold them cheap Who ne'er hung there.
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"Nor does long our durance
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Deal with that steep, deep. Here! Creep!"
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That's a poem. That's what he longs to teach.
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But no, it's "Dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-fucking-dum."
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Shall we go to bed, sweetheart?
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Yeah.
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Come on, then.
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Come on.
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Ooh, someone's in a hurry.