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An ancient mariner solitarily so drunk,
though it was yet early in the morning,
came weaving down the sidewalk towards
a herd of perhaps seven of us who were
waiting for the city buses which would
carry us to our various works, and when
he reached where we were bunched, he
swayed to a stop, removed his
dark-blue wool cap, held it
over his powerful red
shirt, and sang to us:
Everybody wants to go
to heaven, but no-
body wants to die.
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