On my most shattered times of the year,
I sweat thought and calamity,
In your time of dying,
I'll live and entertain you a prose,
In every breath I breathe,
I find not a ghost but me,
Between the mighty skies and deep blue ocean,
Lies a fine line between life and death,
What you seek is what you steer,
Behind every curtain that is unclear,
In every breath I breathe,
I find not a ghost but me,
Understand your fear and agony,
Dark reflection of you in my eyes,
What makes you, you,
And what makes me, me,
In every breath I breathe,
I find not a ghost but me,
Choice is giving you chances,
For a better you or worst,
Pick 'em one from thousands,
Or pick nothing at all.
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