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Á¦¸ñ: The Garden
°¡¼ö: Rush


In this one of many possible worlds,
All for the best,
Or something is our test,
It is what it is,
And whatever,
Time is still the infinite jest

The arrow flies when you dream,
The hours tick away,
The cells tick away

The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes,
The hours tick away, they tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn so easily burned
The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn so easily burned

In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect

In the rise and the set of the sun,
'Till the stars go spinning,
Spinning 'round the night
It is what it is, and forever
Each moment of memory in flight

The arrow flies while you breathe,
The arrows tick away,
The cells tick away,
The Watchmaker has time up his sleeve,
The hours tick away, they tick away

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn so easily burned

In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)
The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
The way you live,
The gifts that you give
In the fullness of time,
Is the only return that you expect

The future disappears into memory,
With only a moment between,
Forever dwells in that moment,
Hope is what remains to be seen
Forever dwells in that moment,
Hope is what remains to be seen

-----------------
The Garden
Rush



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