I'm never in my waking life. Dreaming is my all the time. Whether it's the weather or my mind. It's all too much. Calling in the frigid wind, A whisper is my dearest friend. Leading me along a lily laden twisting trail. Where we go, will tomorrow know? Into the vast and empty alleys we proceed. Crawling over cloudy streets. Streaming with a billion feet. Fumbling along into the dark and dismal day. Where we go, will tomorrow know? Into the vast and empty alleys we proceed. Forever winding our way weary without sleep.

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