Cage me in your fingers, Eddy, if I did you wrong. I'm too often unemployed; I spend my time lagging behind; too much do I enjoy a night with red wine; I owe you, so cage me in your wallet, if I did you wrong. I toil too infrequently; I sweat too little behind a plow; cracked lips and ivy itch are not accepted forms of repayment; cage me in your books. I did you wrong. Take my house. Anyway, my family's long gone. Set me free, like an empty cigarette pack blowing down the highway.
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