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I can't even concentrate on this, |
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It's over thought, anticipated, |
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The pen ink is running dry, |
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It's been thrown to paper and wasted, |
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Creativity has been blocked and over tasted, |
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Maybe in time, I'll appreciate it |
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Hold on, hold on, we'll be with you soon |
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These papers are stuck in this book, |
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'till they're torn out and pasted, |
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to inside of my memory, |
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where I can later look and see them in a new gallery, |
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where they can later be viewed and appreciated. |
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Hold on, hold on, we'll be with you soon, |
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We'll be with you soon |
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Longing for what has been lost, |
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And longing for what hasn't been obtained, |
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It's a small cost, forgot the past, lost the future, |
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Only now remains |
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Hold on, hold on, we'll be with you soon, |
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We'll be with you soon |