At this moment, at this second, at this time, like clockwork, is when, she suddenly reappears, to pay homage, to pay tribute, on this day, in her memory, putting down flowers, at this spot, as she remembers, so crystal clear, when her life, had changed, while she was out, on that foggy, london street, in the heart, of the city, on a pale, moonlit night, as she was, walking home, with only, the gaslights, to shine, the way, among the cobblestones, that shown, like sliver, being misty, from a light, fallen rain, as a figure, loomed, in her path, as she,...