| He stares out the window, blank as a canvas made up in the sunlight and
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| swirling smoke and ash.
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| He waits for a breath. |
| Now, taking his time, he sees an eternity in a blink of an eye.
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| And for him this life is made of time and choices,
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| an endless blend of vistas painted bright with memories.
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| The here and now will bow to him to only serve one purpose, to keep your peace.
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| He takes on the world all in a stride, and your wounds will be his scars.
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| So won’t you remember when the night comes, he will need your open arms.
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| For to be invincible, he needs your love.
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| He stands in the doorway, quiet like yesterday,
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| with forgotten thoughts become a mystery and nightmares locked away.
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| He looks like a gunman, but his view is much too wide for such a solution,
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| so he fights without a six gun on his side.
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| And all the while the stars and moon shine brightly.
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| Outside the desert wails a curse of rage and jealousy.
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| And yet tomorrow comes along and shifts to serve his purpose, to keep your
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| peace.
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| He takes on the world all in a stride, and your wounds will be his scars.
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| So won’t you remember when the night comes, he will need your open arms.
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| For to be invincible, he needs your love. |