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"The old man's sitting there, his head bowed down Every now and then he'll take a look around And his eyes reflect the memory-pain of years gone by He can't regain nostalgic dreams he'll never see again
With trembling hands, he wipes a tear Many fall like rain, there's one for every year And his life laid out so clearly now, life that's brought death So nearly now life once he clung to dearly now lets go"
-- Judas Priest, Epitaph
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