A Means To No End
Destrage
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What can be done must be done
Open hands to catch the falling chance
Air is so dense
What can be done must be done
Time goes nowhere
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Floating, the matter gets high
And burns harder
Combine the soul, the whole
Pollen and anther
What can be done must be done
Connector of nonsense
A means is what I am
Nor dawn and no sunset
Just a means to no end