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There is a feeling, probably a sensation, that arises in me today.
Itâs like a strange form of irrepressible inclination to weeping and rest.
I canât decipher the weeping reason.
There is an implied joy, but these tears are not flowing for joy.
It could be this sick music Iâm listening to and the consciousness to be alone,
although Iâm going to meet the world.
All my fears come true
All my nightmares come true
It wonât be the dark that will send my soul to sleep.
It wonât be the sun to awake my soul, Iâm alive!
Iâm free and satisfied.
Iâm alive, at least until you survive.
The soul that doesnât sleep
My, my soul will never sleep
There is a feeling, probably a sensation, that arises in me today.
Itâs like a strange form of irrepressible inclination to weeping and rest.
I am alive, at least until you survive.