The Memory And The Monolith
Solicide
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All the great ones, they are withered
Great painters are no more
Architects of art and wisdom
Shadows of our past
All and none grow as worlds of truth
Nothing left to say
All and none become things to do
Nothing is our past
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This day has got no meaning
Between the funeral of the future
And the burden of past days
All and none, all and none, we are