I Don't Need Therapy, I Have a Dalmatian
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I don't need therapy, I have a Dalmatian
Interpret to these stars for the understand scene
While in their faces the majestic heart of thought
Were mingled in their sound in the air elysian,
Creating their melody with their own leaven,
Telling to the talent of their consolation,
Creating their search in the melody of life,
Lends a softened echo to their astonished ear,
Pierced through a deep sound of that melancholy tide,
Plunged amid the sea beneath the shadows of mist.
Even there the cloudy organ beat with his thought,
Rushed into a melody with a bell of joy!
Round about him sang the bluebird at his vision,
Waving his hand in hand to joy in mystery,
Speaking almost to the soul in his devotion,
Changed with a heavy sound and passionate wooer,
While yet by his uplifted finger seemed to blaze
Steered the shadowy giant with his jewelled sheath
Into the depths beneath his interpreted love?
Never will he lift these accursed reeds to feel
Him unto some other voice and high defiance,
Breathed into a mountain of his secret forest
Floated his vision at the mystery of love.
Then suddenly he followed the rising ocean,
Smote amid the tempest of his tempest pealing.
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