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Sarah Shannon
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Postwar Hope
Fallen low, without a hope again One gray morning All alone, she sets out on her own world is waking and she lights her cigarette a moment to forget our intercepting lives Will anybody ever know the reasons why?
Summertime of 1949 New York City Daily news, he laces up his shoes all ambition now, he sees it's all the wondrous dream We don't know what it means to be alive Is anybody ever really satisfied?
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