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The sky in may portrays an English day, filled with emotions unexperienced |
| On the thirteenth of May a new love found its way into the hearts of many who would dare to look Perfection born from none but Heaven A dangerous kind of simple pleasure Too many dare to dream and think So many love riddle fools have lost a bet Taken to the streets in shame Unrequited passion drives the young away Sending them helpless into a state of being Where none would dare to go and retrieve However clouded the day may seem None can say that I have lost my way Walking on these cobbled streets in London bay On this thirteenth of May |