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I'd start to sing, and the record would start skipping. You'd be skipping along with it. Those were the days, my friend. We'd look so stupid, but the kids loved it.
— Wilson Pickett
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But what have I, but what have I, my friend, To give you, what can you receive from me? Only the friendship and the sympathy Of one about to reach her journey's end.
— T. S. Eliot
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