I been fightin' gravity since I was two.
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Questers of the prize blind men int he snow. Some streak the skies I choose to go below.
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Skin moves towards malignant worshipping the sun. They clamber over corpses to be the chosen ones.
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Drift along liquid sky.
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Descending through the darkness to the vast terrain. Down here on the bottom you rarely hear the rain.
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Drift along liquid sky.
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The Final Voyage of the Liquid Sky
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| Primus |
