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| When evening in the town was gray His footsteps came so barely heard. Before the dawn he went away To disappear without a word. 
 He traveled to and yonder by To sneak and steal and run away. His skills unmatched for those who try And who he is, no one can say. 
 The Watchman Guard and Soldiers grew To be knocked down without a fight. A thief he is, a good one too A hooded demon who stalks the night. 
 A deadly sword, a stealing hand His skills, he says, they can be sold. The guards, they want to reprimand This weary pilgrim on the road. 
 His face was hidden in his hood His dagger hangs from waist. To steal from those he can and would  A grin upon his silent face. 
 His quiet stride upon light wings And under darkness he masters all To take from those who would be kings And answer night's great silent call. 
 A Lord of Lies, crowned a Thief The silenced echoes were heard afar. The jobs he pulled beyond belief To follow where the shadows are. | 
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