| Reading about Buddhism
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| And listening to Xasthur
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| On the subway in New York City
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| Back when you were my home
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| Not that long ago
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| This (This churning life)
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| Life (Of avalanches)
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| Upends me
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| Again and again (It spins)
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| Each night (Each day plummets into night)
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| Now my mind in the dark
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| Brings it all roaring back
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| That you could not bear me
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| (Can I bear uncertainty that arrives)
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| O the wind that came
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| In through the door?
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| That I can not hold you
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| (Holding you in my mind)
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| Our devotions mismatched
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| (Waking up surprised
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| With no one around
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| And wondering «who?»)
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| We could have bridged the gap
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| But it yawned and swallowed
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| This world of ours
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| That’s now yours and mine
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| (That's now mine and yours)
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| This life bulldozed (This life)
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| By ridiculous sensitivities (Clinging to rocks in wind)
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| Seeing your face everywhere
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| And there’s no escape (Seeing this lost chance)
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| Except what if we could go further in?
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| We were each others' reward
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| For enduring the waves
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| («The wages of dying is love»)
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| (Like the poem says)
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| As long as the one last leap
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| Into the dark
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| Is wholehearted
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| It almost was |