For the world there’s this and that,
And something that fell between it,
They would reject such a fact.
For them it’s either right or wrong,
Hands maybe tied,
But what binds the mind?
You said passion is what makes him forget time,
When reality becomes oblivion,
Existence turns to mystery,
Future merges with history,
Then passion is what he seeks,
Reckless he shall be,
There’s nothing here for keeps.
You have the chords,
Play as you like,
This guitar’s all yours...
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