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There are marks, |
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Where we once walked, |
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In buildings, |
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Bridges and roads. |
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Left for the memory, |
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Of what we had, |
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For the rememberance of how days once left, |
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Without leaving us this empty. |
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You saw through the veil, |
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The coating that covers, |
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The coming day. |
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Some things they're just, |
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Too good to remain. |
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Some things they're just, |
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Too good to remain. |
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You saw through the veil, |
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Left not to be part of a surrounding dying. |
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Some things they're just, |
|
Too good to remain. |
|
Some things they're just, |
|
Too good to remain. |