Too many starting lines
perceived now vanished
only one finish line
all thought must be banished
every day all the same
same old way never change
I borrow words I'd shed my name
and all my history estrange
how do you pull good out
of this slick crimson wire
surely not rhetoric
surely not strike and fire
every day all the same
same old ways never change
I borrow words I'd shed my name
and all my history estrange
Ever always a chance to grab
never simple never complete
but there's only this own hand
nowhere there but my own feet
and yet there's a new day
and yet any own way may change
I'll find my words in my own way
and every old line rearrange
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