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City of blue tile. |
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Figure in |
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Ceramics.Where we reach out. |
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Grab for Porcelain. |
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But it's too fragile to hold. |
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And it shatters in our hands. |
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In time the seasons will seal these shards. |
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Into the slits that denote your wrists. |
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Death is the answer. |
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To calculations composed of motions that are the same. |
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And secret and different |
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A missing alphabet with a message for us. |
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When people die.(DIE,DIE!) |
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They take a piece of us with them.(PEOPLE DIE AND DIE!) |
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And holes in clouds are minutes passing.(DIE AND DIE!) |
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Rescind this line and several ties.(PEOPLE DIE AND DIE EVERYDAY!) |
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The skyline unfolds into explanation. |
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That sometimes words give up. |
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And silently walk off the edge of the page. |
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And here the cry opens up reveals the word inside. |
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The crack in the porcelain. |
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The silent line of sky-lit eyes show. |
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Death up there shine more brightly than lives down here. |
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Try and live. |