No matter how much, there's always more of it. And a tender touch cleared all of it. I said nothing - you said nothing - we did nothing at all. Like a maple key - graceful in our fall. But what am I going to do with everything I know? What am I going to do with everything I know? When I set it out in letters, work in my fingers, and now I don't remember what I touched. Oh, I would throw out all the water for want of a cup - as though it didn't matter if it can't be drunk. So what am I going to do with everything I know? What are you going to do with everything you know? I was staring at you - felt like staring out a window. It all becomes true if we say so.
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