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Oct 2016
It's hard here on the ground floor, surrounded by the street.
The scenery a still-frame, a cell set to repeat.
But I don't see your colors now, that patch of blue's gone gray
I hear your laugh cut through the crash of just another day
Time, again, finds us alone...
in the crushing nothingness of the crowds
I just want it to be gone
Want to shed my shadows among the clouds

It's quiet here in the recent past, reliving a silent beat,
An echo too weak to distinguish, yet still moving the Earth beneath my feet.
Still the subtlety's hard to decipher, the nuance is lost in the stroke
I numb any phantoms that linger, the world is cloud of smoke.
And time and again, it pulls me through
Running headfirst into hell.
Full circle, it seems, in whatever I do
Stopping just this side of well.

It's fleeting here in so-called prime of this distraction known as living
And I haven't asked for more than I have, but I'm taking what they're giving.
A single spark in the midst of a fire doesn't seem to warm the soul
But that same small flame can change the game if you add a little coal
We're hardened now, by time and heat
The pressure's always on
But maybe, when our time's complete
We'll be diamonds before we're gone.
Clayborn Todd Wooton
  567
     athf, Keith Wilson and Scarlet McCall
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