A rapid racing tide of heart
A piece of sickness
Your lives are never what you think them to be
And yet
A rumble of far off thunder
Of something about to break
There are wolves in these woods
Soon to drive you out of house
And yet
A light at the end
A hope for the future
A need for work
A need for restraint
So you go on
Too many lights shine
That which must not come to pass
Must be avoided at any cost

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