A thousand things to do
and nothing pays
am I going to think of that
another thousand days
When I piece it out like that
it doesn't seem so much
Still well shy of ten
since when I lost my magic touch
hell I cannot ride this train
a minute more
fueled by fear and distrust
of just what's in store
So afraid of dying
by the thousand cuts
time to grasp the nettle
and this time, no buts
what
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