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The trees stand firm, the houses we live in
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To be made whole
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A year has come to us as though out of hiding
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Everywhere I go is a road and a mirror
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Let the / desert bloom through ruins we can look out of, let us
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So much of any year is flammable,
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The world will keep trudging through time without us
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The night thick enough
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but how will we, still alive, socialize
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What if we stood up with our synapses and flesh and said, No.
