On the side of a desolate desert
The twilight is approaching
The sky I seek alone is growing
From a past of forgotten memories

From a countless number of wounds
A different kind of smoke has arisen
The pent-up cold winds
And the flower we're promised to

Are telling us it's time to go
Let's get going
Before going to the world of dead
Everything must be resolved

Until then we must live like there's no tomorrow
Once upon a Monday morning
My grandmother whispered to me
"Today is a good time to die"
Definitely
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