| If I’m just born once in a lifetime
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| Who am I to make things up?
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| I count the stars but will they count me?
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| Who am I to lift them up?
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| «Who am I?» |
| the soldiers ask me
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| «Who am I?» |
| ask the police
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| Who am I but a reflection of that uniform beneath
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| I was born on a forgotten day
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| Born on a forgotten day but I own the night
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| I own the night
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| I snuck back through time hacks
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| A mountain of stars over the sea
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| The rippling torment of solitude
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| I will reach you if only to shake you awake
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| Beneath the crust and mantle of this planet is a birthplace
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| A crystal of light peering through ocean breath and form
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| I am as conscious of its eye as in my essence, I am I
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| Both the music and the bombast of the storm
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| I own the night and the stars bright as suns of distant galaxies
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| I am the darkness of my earth-form holding space
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| I own the night and the spectrum of awareness and fatality
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| I take the form of every lover’s face
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| Deep in the eye in the moon-like satellite of every pupil
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| I am the light in its wave-form
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| I am grace
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| I own the night and the dream-space of a planet in a planet
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| I own the night that each day works to erase |