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■ You are
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And you raise.
From the struggle of waves Fresh sand is born And I read your track for a wave As only one you will stay. And you go afar Toward distances where images Burn in the light of day And I run for awhile, I run, I pray I cry with sand in my hair and no words to say. And I've lost. Lost the chance to tell what I feel. I lay on the ground and talk to the sand Whisper each morsel my dreams and my fears. Maybe one day Each morsel of sand born from the struggle of waves Will talk to your skin As you raise.
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