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A thousand footsteps without direction |
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Adrift like snowfall from winter skies |
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Aimless parades of burning ambivalence |
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Selling false hope in certainty's guise |
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Living and breathing in sorrow's colossus |
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The teeming masses await a reply |
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Hoping for something that tastes of deliverance |
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Waiting for answers to fall from the sky |
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Are we just living ghosts |
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Waiting to be freed? |
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Stuck at a tipping point |
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We never dare exceed |
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And what if no one comes |
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To liberate our souls? |
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And all of this is all there is |
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To make us whole? |
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Hidden meanings extracted from vagaries |
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Fruitless missives predicting an end |
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Mere conjecture impersonates prophesy |
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Finding doom in every change of the wind |
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Inside a culture of spiritual violence |
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Demons singing like creatures of light |
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Smiling faces awash in hypocrisy |
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Vending salvation that no one invites |
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Are we just living ghosts |
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Waiting to be freed? |
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Stuck at a tipping point |
|
We never dare exceed |
|
And what if no one comes |
|
To liberate our souls? |
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And all of this is all there is |
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To make us whole? |
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A thousand questions in search of an answer |
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Seeking a meaning in creation's design |
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A futile wish for an order in randomness |
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A certain outcome to which we're resigned |
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Reaching skyward in hope of protection |
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Leading the weak to the feet of the strong |
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Unanswered prayers suggest the conclusion |
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That all we think we know is probably wrong |
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Are we just living ghosts |
|
Waiting to be freed? |
|
Stuck at a tipping point |
|
We never dare exceed |
|
And what if no one comes |
|
To liberate our souls? |
|
And all of this is all there is |
|
To make us whole? |