On
benches at the edge of Heaven
If the weather permits, infirm souls sit
Leaning towards Hell not
To gloat nor to compare the ways
Folk embrace their damnations,
But to listen for long-lost voices
That gave them sometimes pieces
Of wonderfully bad advice
If the weather permits, infirm souls sit
Leaning towards Hell not
To gloat nor to compare the ways
Folk embrace their damnations,
But to listen for long-lost voices
That gave them sometimes pieces
Of wonderfully bad advice
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