If I could stop this race, this world with no mercy...
the running of the clock, this hustler's pace that makes us trade blood for money.
Would we breath, speak, exhale and feel the presence of what wasted love we disinherit?
What is this legacy of hopeless toil, this slipping of our days that darkens our eyes?
Myself? I slip into the rushing crowd, platforms, doors, with window panes that box me in.
The mark of my fears is what anger cannot protect.
For death is certain as is time.
To find again the starry sky, that endless childhood romance of guiltless wondering.
Outward might sail the inward heart, a newer fable like the first so young!
Believing you are as magical as the Milky Way, the child again is free!
Why Progress?... as Progress takes the path of destruction.
A seamless and convincing ruin of all that sustains us, that's what love of money buys!
Despise greed, pray for love, love as a song that bears your name when all seems lost.
Cry and let go, sing with all your might, together we are the chorus.
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