Yes, that would be me, you see, I am so used pretending to be a human, an adult, a responsible person, no Smith and Wesson,
I just pretend to be alive, for now, because the reality is an illusion, albeit, a really palpable, tangible one.
We do not pour concrete, we live some concrete lives in here, we struggle, we survive, we thrive,
but in the end we just pretend to be alive.
Who is the dreamer living this ethereal dream? I put the universe in verse, inverse, from back to front.
No news on the east front, we think you don't know much about such a dodgy bussiness.
Inverness, Fes, Meknes, dots on the map, most just a trap, what you gonna do when your steps are reaching the finish line? Fine, that is not a break, no more steak, or lobster, not a real mobster, not that vile to get it right, Sakamoto style.
We are only dust in the wind!
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