Title: Optional

Text: When they turn the sun on again, I'll plant children under it; I'll light up my soul with a match and let it sing. I'll spoon feed myself spoonfuls of heat and everyone will be home playing with their wings and the planet will shudder with all those smiles and there will be no poison anywhere, no plague in the sky, and there will be a mother-broth for all of the people and we will never die, not one of us. We'll go on won't we? Each paragraph will be a test.

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