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 Grandeur Of Melancholy

The Croon

With a yell 
of a singing
bird, that
happens to

It covers
the map
of a brass
snare drum.
And loops
over the sound.
Booming over the mound.
That song, shouting.
That music, laughing.
Somehow fantastic fun,
paves the streets golden.

That crooner's got it going.
Like a cat on a tin can in alley. 

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