Running short on imaginationStill we waste it all on wordsSpoken without the benefit of our mindsThe candle burns, the edges framedOur best intentions waste awayAnd everybody loves the things we've done and on, and on, and onLife appears weightlessFor everyone but meThis world grows heavier everydayDeteriorationGrowin' old before my timeNobody cares, never mindWe all prey on a vain condition and
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