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Less of the same Comfortable cold that I've known Splintering ice on the Bay I realized the timelines we fake Create the light we make Bring flowers for my saving grace Trade out this wilted bouquet Bring flowers for my future grave It's mine to make Lengthening days Bind me to the warmth I've been shown Open horizon ahead I theorize a new design to chase instead I see the light shine through the window The Creator's golden call To those who heed it I breathe the saccharine air That's spared of what's been lost And the seeds we haven't sown Bring flowers for my saving grace Trade out this wilted bouquet Bring flowers for my future grave It's mine to make Let the sun disgorge it's rays Will it reinvent Who I used to be Let a hope grow from the cinder Shower me in humbled daze I invigorate I revitalize I embrace the healing Glistening rain, washing all of the aching from my face Fever dreams Battering waves have exposed a foundation of regret Forming fleurettes Bring flowers to my grave Growing vines Syncopate Cycle all I've made And turn it into gains I define I see the light Form and shape Shining through the windows Every path I take and all that I retain Show what's left of winter's wake Growing vines I see the light Syncopate Shining through the windows Cycle all I've made and turn it into gains Show what's left of winter's wake I define I see the light Form and shape Shining through the windows Every path I take, and all that I retain Show what's left of winter's wake
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