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I get up each morning, gather my wits.
Pick up the paper, read the obits.
If I'm not there I know I'm not dead.
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
Oh, how do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got-up-and-went.
But in spite of it all, I'm able to grin,
And think of the places my get-up has been.
-- Pete Seeger
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scen
🥞 -- 🐛 -- 📘 -- 💛 -- 💄 -- 🏓 -- 🎍 -- 👃 -- 💙 -- 🍧 -- 🚗 -- 🚙 -- 🎁 -- 💚 -- ⚡