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Sorry it’s not a shooting star with a wish
I’m tired of sitting back subtle
If you want rich
I’ll grab this shovel
Inch after inch I’ll dig my ditch
Length, depth, width; triple – double
You see, I see more than strike through S’s
All life’s treasures
While you looking through a tunnel
I watch the world through Hubble
You blowing off bubbles
We fly on while you crumble

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