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Wasted And Wounded, It Ain’t What The Moon Did

and it’s a battered old suitcase
to a hotel someplace
and a wound that will never heal
no prima donna, the perfume is on
an old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
and goodnight to the street sweepers
the night watchman flame keepers
and goodnight Matilda, too.

—Tom Waits, Waltzing Matilda, full lyrics

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