Two ways of life ȋ̝̊̅ know
The good α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ the bad
Two kinds of life ȋ̝̊̅ know
The rich α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ the poor

Two actors ȋ̝̊̅ know
The weak α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ the strong
Two phases ȋ̝̊̅ know
The smooth α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ the rough

The end justifies the means
Although ȋ̝̊̅ wish it were not so
If it were so
♍Ɣ care wouldn't reveal

So ȋ̝̊̅ scan through the album
Maybe I'll be releived with joy
But all the clues ȋ̝̊̅ got
All of them were blur

What makes the clock tic?
What makes the wind warm?
Times α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ season are the same
Things will always be the same

But when the rain stops
When the wind stills
When the leaves wither
When the bones dry

Α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ all the smiles are gone
Α̩̩̩̩̥Ω̶̣̣̥̇̊ƌ̲̣̣̣̥ no more tears can drop
What is left to want
Heaven or hell; recall