| Painfully witnessing another’s victory
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| Parading before his eyes
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| His envy, fully awake and restless
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| Admiring each and every passerby
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| An inner gravity toward all directions
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| Submersed in a pull of unreachable destinations
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| Completely removed of acceptance
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| For another’s standing in the distance
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| Shouldn’t you be living above this?
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| Shouldn’t you be finding your own way?
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| Endlessly praying for just one taste
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| Of a truth of anything but your own
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| If given the chance, they would be clear of the path
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| But without their presence
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| You would never have known the direction
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| Had it been unseen or unsaid
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| To be content in their standing
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| Is to find a way of your own
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| Shouldn’t you be living above this?
|
| Shouldn’t you be finding your own way?
|
| Endlessly praying for just one taste
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| Of a truth of anything but your own |