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You're a fish out of water, Lana,
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gasping for life. It won't end well.
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Trust me.
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15th of November 1964. Dear Kitty:
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This relentlessly cheerful tune never stops playing.
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The walls are closing in. I can hardly breathe.
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It's Amsterdam all over again.
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But there are eyes everywhere.
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These eyes of madness and disease.
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These people, they are resigned to die here.
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We were never resigned.
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We always held on to a shred of hope.