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THREES

Creep, by Radiohead
Teenaged Dirtbag, by Wheatus
I'm Not OK, by MCR
 
Faster than a speeding bullet!
More powerful than a locomotive!
Able to leap tall buildings at a single bound!
 
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
T.S.Eliot, The Wasteland

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour
Chaucer, Canterbury Tales


April this year, not otherwise
Than April of a year ago,
Is full of whispers, full of sighs,
Of dazzling mud and dingy snow;
Hepaticas that pleased you so
Are here again, and butterflies.
Edna St. Vincent Millay, Song of a Second April
 
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