
Night-night, city.
See-ya, streets replete with amaxophobia’s vessels of vexation.
Au revoir, renegades reconnoitering residences for readying ruckus-rendering.
Toodle-oo, denizens uncouth, who oft exhibit behaviours worse than their scapegoat youth.
Sweet swevens, slumbering skyscrapers stilling sounds save for snores.
Morning-morning, city heard to be as heartsome as it’s warmthful horizon—showing how set do the mares and rise do the cares. ; )
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