Tour de la vie

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Come thither,
Follow the hand.
Can it see, 
Your harried face?

To the chamber
Now you inch.
Stone or gas?
Make a guess!

Noose that cannot be 
But for the funny-faced.
Short tongues shan’t be
Bothered with the final itch.

Every drudge has now its place. 
Quick make a wish!
If the next must be near,
Would it’d never be this! 

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