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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420160" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Repetoire</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420160" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are songs that I no longer play, <br>even when I’m at practice alone.<br>The words are to painful to sing<br>now that I’ve reaped what I’ve sown.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420160" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are places that we used to go, <br>where I haven’t gone in a year.<br>The barkeep must think that I’ve died, <br>As I no longer stop for a beer.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420160" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are friends that I no longer see-<br>They would only remind me of you.<br>Phantom pains to an old amputee<br>Bitter leaves from my garden of rue.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=420160" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are songs that I no longer play, <br>Whose lyrics would stab at my heart.<br>These days, I’ve been drinking for two.<br>It’s my solace since we’ve been apart.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a></strong></div>

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