here i drown in artificial light, in a cluttered room,
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which has never really felt like mine.
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and outside, the sun is rising
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which i know by feeliing,
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not by sight.
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i stare straight ahead and i feel time passing.
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it's tim to move out of this life and into the old.
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and i try to fight it, i try to adapt,
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i try to ignore the impending departure.
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this chronic insomnia;
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nothing but a pathetic revolt against inevitability.
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a new begins and i can't imagine leaving the old.
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while i know my time here ends,
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your journey continues.
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though you don't see it as such.
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i hope that my time here has helped you to see that you must use your life to live.
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i just want to sleep in your embrace, until orders for me to leave wake us. then we either drown or rise.
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oh, were it only so that we could alter these facts.
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usualy one has a choice but here we can't do a thing.
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had we been given a chance to bloom.
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but, for once, all we can blame is circumstance.
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-----------------
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The Thirtieth
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The Khayembii Communique |