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I am young, but not so young
I still follow my dreams
And imagine songs about me sung
But I see why dreams die
And songs may never touch tongue
But I still carry hope
For I am older, but still young
Darkly, darkly ever do they sing
The trees of old filled with dark wings
The song of death, the end and decay
Ever resounding, eternally grey

Beaks and bones, sinews and flesh
Spoiled things, a moss ridden mesh
Ash in the sky and clouds on the earth
Nothing now left of any real worth
To the girl who was once mine,
I think about you all the time.
These memories cloud my head,
stuck are these words left unsaid.

To the girl who was once mine,
I hope this can make up for lost time.
I hope you found the girl of your dreamss,
even if it hurts that she wasn't me.
Eyes open to the dark
With the light becoming the spark
To the panic that pours
Staggering back and forth

A sharp pain pierces
Forcing down even the fiercest
One that can't be cured
Every human fears to endure

A familiar tune echoes
Hypnotically dragging vision close
Desperation delivers and bellows
A frail creature from the shadows

The bird in song flees
Bringing me to my knees
Leaving only a feather
Painted the deepest red ever

The end draws near
And my question becomes clear
In the time hardest to breathe
Why did the red canary chirp for me?
Afters the Roars of the Thunder You'll taste the purity of the rain,
After the sweetness of the memory you'll memorize it with pain,
But though every beautiful thing cost more than just a dime,
you have to live those moments because you'll never control time.
And after every lover's deep love he'll be ****** to be insane,
And behind every fading smile of abel there's always some cain,
behind every innocent man in jail there's a freeman made the crime,
And before every person's prayer there's always a bell that chime.

Beside every earth light's flicker there must be shiny a sun,
And besides every dead bird there's someone who fired the gun,
And though every beautiful thing is priced to be priceless,
every abandoned flower trembles And condemned to be lifeless,
And besides every dreamer child There stands clearly no one,
And besides every proud father there stands his fortunate son,
besides Every portrait of regret is a colorless one of sadness,
behind every wink of happiness there's some smell of kindness.

Under The roof of illusion hides a man afraid from the rain of reality,
And under some expensive suit hides a man with feelings-poverty,
And though every beautiful thing is buried under the clouds,
The green grass managed to cover the motions and the grounds,
under every dreams of childhood Rises the misery of puberty,
And under every blossom tree claims one that it's his property,
under every sigh of silence there's a million forms of sounds,
Yes and under every straight line of thoughts there's questions goes in rounds.
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