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inspired by pan's labyrinth |
| You see, it takes the right key, but no one seems to have it. Some will try and trick you, but only out of of habit. The habit is the lie, that holds the truth inside. The truth that leads the spirit, that inevitably dies. But death can never finish cause it will start again, this rhythm we call music, this excuse that we call man. Man will last a minute, life will take the world. A cycle with no practice, a root forever curled. The knowledge is what’s lacking, to those who roam this time. We all pretend we exist we are all so very blind. Is their life beyond us? Is there more of me? Where will my time take me, before I can soon be free? |