The Echoes Plained
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
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Too late, too late
Too late
The echoes plained
The echoes
Warned
Too late, too late
Then rose he
And erect
He stood
And thought
And thought.
‘But, ' said he
‘All has a remedy
if only with sacrifice.
I will make sacrifice
And get a remedy, '
And so
He made
And so
It was not ever
Too late, too late
Too late
Too late, too late
Too late.
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