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Your season fixated on sleeping the laziness Traveling the fairgrounds and deciding whose failed you at best High as your voice still sung in the circus tents Touching your tongue on the ceilings of song How many skies fell on your horizon line? Would you go nowhere if you had a nowhere to go nowhere to Never afraid of challenging the scene If it punched out my lights then I would punch out its sun Can you not see that your audience is leaving They were crushed in the foyers unable to find seating The ushers in protest for the tears they planned on keeping Will soon turn to rivers not worthy of drinking The light now embarrassed and afraid of the dark Is seen covering its evening with garments of stars The windmills stand turning to a hurricanes push The keyholes and stanzas singing onward we must
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