| Let those who wake despair upon the night
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| For through it all they loved has turned to gray
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| Like the ever-fading memories of all we hoped be
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| In an instant lost to waters deep forever more to keep
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| This loss pervades the spirit
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| A spectre of doubt in every breath
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| A second from failure
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| A lifetime of doubt
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| Confident in the permanence of the moment
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| Trusting in the encouragement of actuality
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| But all we have will one day slip away as the past tense replaces the present
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| Time slips right through our grasp
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| And laughs as it leaves
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| Singing with triumphant might
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| «The way things are is not how they shall be. |
| On trust this fact.»
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| This is a light in the sky that blinds those who foolishly look
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| This knowledge corrupts us
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| Let those condemned with life confess this sin: they believe that truth is
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| lasting
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| But every truth must one day turn to dust
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| Must only self-destruction be reality?
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| This loss envelops the being
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| For every hope is fleeting
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| A second from failure
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| A lifetime of doubt
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| In this I trust: all things will fade but longing
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| All we have will one day pass
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| And laugh as it leaves
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| Singing with triumphant might
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| «All roads lead to me and nothing escapes my grasp. |
| One day, you will succumb.» |