| The century that is dying
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| ? |
| a rather stingy century
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| in the sense of the production of thought.
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| Wherever there is, a great display of opinions, full of varied
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| affirmations that are good for us and we are happy
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| a sea of words
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| a sea of words
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| but speak more? |
| what else the morons.
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| The century that is dying
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| becomes more and more? |
| alarming
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| because of the great laziness of the mind.
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| And the man who no longer has? |
| the taste of mystery, which has no passion
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| for the truth, who is not aware of his state
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| a sea of words
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| a sea of words
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| ?, like a well-fed animal.
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| And to think that there was the thought
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| which filled our somewhat empty heads in spite of ourselves.
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| Now inert and dozing we await any future
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| with that tender and vague taste of things now lost.
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| Think about the golden wings
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| think about the golden wings.
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| In the century that is dying
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| they invent demagogies
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| and this confusion? |
| the world of ideas.
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| At this point you can? |
| even imagine what he might say
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| or to re-invent a new and somewhat rebellious Descartes
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| a sea of words
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| a sea of words
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| I therefore think I am an idiot.
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| The century that is dying
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| which seems to those who do not look well
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| the century of the great triumph of action
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| in the sense of a very urgent situation, where it does not happen
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| nothing at all, where every problem refers
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| a sea of words
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| a sea of words
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| and I too am pi? |
| stupid than before.
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| And to think that there was the thought
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| he had seemed ill for a while, but now he's dying.
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| In a time that turns everything upside down, we start from scratch
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| and the painful notes of a singing choir are heard.
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| Come action with lead feet come action with lead feet. |