| I am the guardian of memories
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| I am the gatekeeper to what has been
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| I am the captor
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| The sentinel of moments of true spontaneity
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| In this cesspool of industrially fabricated frames
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| For life’s ever fleeting sincerity
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| Must be preserved in all of its colors
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| My path on this world has never wavered until now
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| My role in this chaotic theatre of life has always been so clear to me
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| But I’m struggling to accept this ending
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| What’s the point of a show if in the end
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| There is no audience actors or theatre
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| Nothing and no one to prove it ever existed at all
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| I wish I understood it more
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| I wish I could make sense of it all
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| I suppose the only thing I truly know
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| Is that when The Negative gets here
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| It will change everything
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| I’ve caught myself daydreaming about it a lot lately
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| What will this new world look like
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| Will the stars still twinkle in the night sky
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| Will the same colorful vibrancy still reflect in the light
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| Will humanity even exist in this new macrocosm
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| Or will we be expunged with the rest of it
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| I’d like to imagine it will be more like a pentimento
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| A new universe sprawled over the canvas of what once was
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| Leaving clues just under the surface
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| The tiniest shred of evidence of what existed before
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| But it’s impossible to stay confident in that idea
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| When my expectations are everything and nothing all at once
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| All I know is that whatever it is that’s going to happen
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| It’s going to be soon
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| And it will happen in the blink of an eye
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| I took the last photo I will ever take the other day
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| It was a beautiful day and I was walking through the park during the golden hour
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| I noticed this feeble old man and behind him dragged this old tattered dog leash
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| It was vacant, there was no dog
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| Yet his hand held onto this leash with such conviction
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| It infuriated me
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| The pointlessness of it
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| I snapped a picture and then without even thinking
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| I threw my camera smashing it into pieces on the ground
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| I’ve always had a gift for distinguishing moments of truth
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| And I’ve always known my purpose was to capture and preserve those moments
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| So they can be remembered
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| But what is the point
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| What is the point of preserving these moments
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| What was the point of that fucking dog leash?
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| I recognized the same undeniable truth I saw in the negative
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| That I’ve seen in all of the pictures I’ve ever captured
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| Since then time has haunted me every second of every day
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| It lingers over my head like a dark cloud
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| Heavy with powerful devastation
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| Ready to storm down upon the unsuspecting arrogance below
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| I know The Negative is real
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| I know it’s coming fast
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| And I know it is coming soon
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| Everything will be gone
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| Everything will be gone
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| Nobody is ever going to hear this
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| I don’t even know why I’m recor… |