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    I cannot give the reasons
    I only sing in tunes :
    the sadness of the seasons
    the madness of the moons

    I cannot be didactic
    or lucid, but I can
    be quite obscure and practic-
    ally marzipan

    In gorgery and gushness
    and all that's squishified.
    My voice has all the lushness
    of what I can't abide

    And yet it has a beauty
    most proud and terrible
    denied to those whose duty
    is to be cerebral.

    Among the antlered mountains
    I make my viscous way
    and watch the sepia fountains
    throw up their lime-green spray

— Mervyn Peake.

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