I see the mundane; I see the same
the lame, the tame, the pain, the fame
I see it all; I see the pain
Just like you
but I get carried away
Then, days that pass, some I hope to last
some, I hope they carry the grey
away, as far as possible
I pretend to pray
on delusional ecstasy
these days, that’s how I run away
from reality
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