| (I Am) Made from the Wires |
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| (The Timbre Of) The Timber Colony |
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| A Gla** To Count All The Hours |
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| A Hatchet, A Hatchet |
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| Bears In Hibernation |
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| Become As Murderers |
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| Candy Cane Carriage |
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| Colours In Dutch |
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| Draw For Me, M.C. Escher |
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| Four Gone Pierre (Or What Electricity Made) |
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| Frivolity And Its Necessities |
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| I Recall the Telephone Booth |
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| Labor Saving Device |
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| Like Fools, They Bathed In Pools |
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| Most Terrible Archer |
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| My Grandfather, The Cubist |
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| On Being Principally Utopian |
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| Quite Quieter Than Spiders |
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| Red Will Dye These Snows Of Silver |
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| Rickety Trickery |
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| The First Time I Loved Her It Was Here |
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| The Memory Of Alpha |
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| The Ministry of Archers |
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| The Otherly Opus |
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| The Ushering In Of The Magical Era |
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| The Warmth Of Wooden Lanterns |
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| They Will Love Us For Our Instruments |
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| Victorian Intuition/Father Winter Replies |
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| We Rock Harder Than You Ever Knew |
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| Whether By Horse, Or Horseless |
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| Write Your Last Paragraph |
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