vulture

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The racing of our imaginations --you argue, perhaps, that is our incentive?Lives without incentives are insane,and insanity with incentive is life.And how can we know what is beyond our mountains,
We cry adieu, the red-haired vulturecrys not a tear, for all is spentits heart is rent, all hidden treasureNevermore to gleam in warmth of light
Armadillo on the road Armadillo on the road
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