Dreams without end
He wears his duty
Upon his sunny sleeve
A sure-born entertainer
She smiles, as others grieve
There it is...
How easy to be mournful
To pour scorn
Rather than to find beauty
To walk to the crease
Feeling ever less hopeful
Ravaged by the needs of duty
There it goes...
Look out on the trees
The windmills slowly turning
Sat in the queue
No one looks, no one is learning
All is straight ahead
No one gives, all are for earning
There it is, there it goes...
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