nobody makes it to the end of biology books alive
nobody makes it to the end of biology books alive
all things are constantly looking for balance
what is structured or confined wants to break
searching for balance, is finding death
what eventually will die, is already dieing
we are just buckets with holes in it
constantly running dry, always needed to be filled
I'm standing on the summit of existence
and something pulls the life out of me from under
As if I'm born to be nothing but a human being
I rather never existed than watch everything fall to pieces
I miss you already
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