Honestly, what will become of me?
I don't like reality
It's way too clear to me
But really life is dandy
We are what we don't see
We miss everything daydreaming
Traveling I always stop at exits
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets it and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
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