softly, persistently those starched seams of material obsession
trite expressions that seem to echo so endlessly
I've left it all behind this time left it all behind in my mind
The alarm clock dawn methodical in its wringing, starving, stealing time so stealthily that you hardly notice until one day you wake up faded, to a jaded, gaunt and hungry hue.
I've left it all behind this time left it all behind in my mind
So this is how it feels to be free? To be set adrift like some Coltrane riff When need's an endless song
Can't tell you where I'll be tomorrow I may be drawn back into the Yawn of the alarm clock dawn Balance is my only hope to end up Somewhere in the middle...
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