What's good of all the patches
the ones that let the stains come through,
Can long delayed meetings turn back time
will they make us feel the same way, too
Everyone's so indifferent
all do all the time seem so sour,
The sky above is brilliant
and it won't pretend it's ours
It contemplates what we've done
and stays there when we're long gone
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uǝɥʇɐǝɥ
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