| I’m standing on the precipice
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| It’s a cliff that I’ve prayed on before
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| So much so that despite the fact that
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| I don’t know if I believe in a god or gods anymore
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| My fingertips they bear callouses
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| My palms they bear callouses from pressing together so tightly
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| I pray hard when I pray
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| I’ve often thought that this maw in front of us was the end of everything
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| A darkness that consumed all, a black hole
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| Do you know that we are made up of the same stuff that makes up the stars?
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| So, what flows through us may not be just blood it may be stardust
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| And we are dying every second of every minute of every hour of every day
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| Brings us closer to that final day that final hour that final minute that final
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| second that final breath
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| Which means when we run out of hydrogen we become giants, or super giants,
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| or supernovas
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| And if not that then we are simply stars whose ill-fated courses end in
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| collision either way
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| Either way we’ll explode
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| With this in mind I reconsider the precipice
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| There is something beautiful in its blackness isn’t there
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| Something wondrous in its persistence in swallowing us all?
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| The end, the end of everything is the beginning of a brand new everything
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| The end of this universe may be the beginning of a brand new one
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| So that even now when my heart feels like the most congested intersection
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| The world, the world it is waiting
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| I reconsider the precipice and so,
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| In an effort to take part in reckless acts of self definition
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| I jump and I ask you to join me
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| As I fall, as I let that beautiful blackness take me into its arms
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| I know that I will be safe in them
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| I know that we, you and I, all of us
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| We will be safe in its embrace |