When it comes around, it takes and it leaves.
Battles fought one handed, like sleeping with one eye open.
Like carving a name, and tying a rope,
Like hatching a plan, and following through.

In our grandfather's failings we sit on thrones of cold
Mired by none, and outcast from ourselves.

Make a choice, and make it quick.

If we freeze it, just like it was...

It's not knowing, that's killing me.

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