Burn me a book
Take my words and twist
My voice is not my own
It's the mass of many

Who molds the children
On their knees they'll be
Crying for a mystic wonder
That'll never be

Trace the flower's dew
The feeling of light air
Breath in, breath out
The old man' blank stare

I see nothing
It's not quite real
Sing me a lullaby of insight
Put me to sleep

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