| They focused on the hill
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| A tower loomed in near space
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| Other things seemed out of phase
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| Sure, Jan and Tom had faith
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| How persuasive an ideal
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| Everything to everyone
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| Waiting for the moment to come
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| And every waking hour is the waiting that’s done
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| Writing, thinking and building of expectations
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| Meetings weekends, melting of constellations
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| And time is out of time and is turning
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| Putting people into spaces
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| Taking others out of time
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| The savant wants for saving now
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| She’s waiting for someone to run
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| And every waking hour is the waiting that’s done
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| Distant and distance, in a pivotal moment broken
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| For now it’s done caring and is ready to
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| Go on home
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| And time is out of time. |
| And is turning
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| «So sorry, does it matter anymore?»
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| Her movement, charged with wonder
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| The wonder is she’s there at all. |
| «So sorry.»
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| The tower looms unreal
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| Someone somewhere calling
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| Running fast on empty words
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| To the edge of the known world
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| Some may be afraid, maybe take the easy way
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| Turn and face the rage
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| So «sorry» counts for nothing in the end
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| No, it never really mattered
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| (but the meaning lies between the words.)
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| Hidden deep within words
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| And time is out of time… and is lost |