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Everyone always wants to live in the fast lane.
And they all tell me I should do the same.
But why should I?

I don't want to run by people who could enrich my life
I don't want to go a hundred miles a minute.

I want to enjoy life.
Stop and smell the flowers,
Not see them and say "oh how pretty"

I want to love hard,
Not much.

I want to feel the soft embrace of a dedicated lover
Not just of everyone who throws an offer my way.

If I'm being completely honest
As long as I reach the air and finally feel my colors change
I'm okay with whatever happens around me

And maybe when I jump in a car with some pals and scream with them "ROAD TRIP"
I'm okay with running a hundred miles a minute.

But someone, once I'm in that left lane,
Please remind me to stop and breathe.
Remind me that life isn't just the wind blowing in my hair or the music turned up loud

Life itself is hidden in the dull moments.

And don't just remind me that life is worth living through those dull moments
Remind me to cherish how slow things can go.
How beautiful people get when they show you their souls
And only in dull moments and awkward silences can you see that in them

Only in loneliness can you find out who you are when you stand alone

Always remind me of those things
Because when you start running like that you get addicted to the adrenalin

But if you slow down,
If you see how people are made of comets and stardust
Maybe you can see that you yourself are, too.

If you live your life in the left lane,
How can you take the proper exit?
The exits that hold the best times are off to the right.

Don't tell me to live in the fast lane.
I don't want to brush past people
I don't want to be inside this shell that keeps me from slowing down

Thanks for your offer, but I think I'm well off
I have flowers to smell and people to meet
If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.
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