| «So nevermind,…
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| Someday they will build monuments for us»
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| People like me walk out the door, we’ll pull you out
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| Into the streets of far off countries
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| If I’m ready to go, how could I let you dwell
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| In delight?
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| So you see, all things are so bright and spiritual
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| These seeds are growing in extraordinary colors
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| I’m convinced. |
| Even I believe that I have grown something
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| It’s cased in light
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| Don’t worry about me
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| I’m gone
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| Don’t worry about me
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| I’m off in a distant place
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| Where I can be the signifier
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| Not that which is signified
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| The referent, convincing us
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| For you my smile is like «bow, bow, bow, bow»
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| Out here there is no «under the skin»
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| And the form of every other
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| Is hidden under covers
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| So let us sleep in ease of dark
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| We couldn’t rest
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| With this sense of duty hanging off of our chests
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| Peeled away
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| We had to get back
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| From where the grip of our own hands could lift us from
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| The failures in the eyes of men
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| To form our scales and weigh our works, good again |