Shanghai, I still remember you.
From long quite long so long ago;
Your skyline in the morning sun,
And me: afraid of shadows

When I was young, I foolish was
(And foolish am, but that’s beside)
I flew around the many worlds
That formed my glass enclosure —

At distant skylines I would stare,
On rivers, I would skim my rocks;
I’d gamble with my empty heart,
And flirt with discomposure —

I’d dream of Irish girls at night
(Unless I was in Ireland)
I’d string my hopes from flight to flight
Then file, with a byline

But everywhere I lastly went,
My time was broken or misspent;
Except, perhaps, the moments I
Was taking in
The skyline

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