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We scaled |
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the face of reason |
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to find |
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at least one sign |
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that would reveal |
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the true dimensions |
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of life... |
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lest we forget. |
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And maybe it's easier to withdraw from life, |
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with all of its misery and wretched lies, |
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away from harm. |
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We lay |
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by cool, still waters |
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and gazed |
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into the sun. |
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And like the moth's |
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great imperfection, |
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succumbed |
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to her fatal charm. |
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And maybe it's me who dreams unrequited love, |
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the victim of fools who watch |
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and stand in line away from harm! |
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In our vain pursuit |
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of life for one's own end |
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will this crooked path |
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ever cease to end? |