Evryone dance,
While I in vain,
They waiting for the summer rain,
I'm stuck with the cold winter.
Do I have a soul,
I see rotten hope,
I smell the uncool guts,
Long awaited hall.
Fragile beat tuning my brain,
When they whisper,
That it stated,
This is my fate.
I'll be waiting,
For the magic bus,
To take me,
Where the end belong.
Making my way is not easy,
Making my mark is not easy,
Thus with lie,
Shall I live.
.
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