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A Great Escape to Monaco

Sad songs forgotten,

alive inside nimble fingers

that tremble in tuxedos,

off the golden coast of Monaco.


A breeze to sing us to sleep,

when the musicians have left,

walking past the waking dawn.


Tea cups keeping crumbs company

After breakfast has been served.

On the terrace, a little after noon.


Let us waste the day

watching the sun

set over the sea;

the moon may

then indulge

her vanity

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