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Transcript of Solitude Analysis
Sigh, it is lost on the air;For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,But has trouble enough for its own.
Silence is Grey by Juan Moranta
There is room in the halls of pleasureFor large and lordly train,
Weep, and you weep alone;
The echoes bound a joyful sound,But shrink from voicing care.
Feast, and your halls are crowed;Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,But no man can help you die.
But one by one we must file onThrough the narrow aisles of pain.ThemesPhilosophy of the Life
Not about people are bad
NO ONE WILL COME(alone drink)Referencehttp://www.paranoias.org/2013/07/silence-is-grey-by-juan-moranta/