spirit, dead, but he is not a dead person, nor is he a person....
Classic lines:
My city. She's always there for me. Every lonely night, she's there for me.She's not some tarted-up fraud all dressed up like a piece of jailbait. No. She's an old city......old and proud of her every pock
and crack and wrinkle. She's my sweetheart, my plaything.She doesn't hide what she is, what she's made of:Sweat, muscle and blood of generations. She sleeps.After midnight and until dawn,
only shadows move in the silence.There she is!
My city screams. She needs me. She is my love. She is my life. And l am her Spirit.
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