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Lucid dreams something you see, something is there but not really.
I'll carve a mountain in the sky, peek thought the clouds to sunshine.
Memory remember the feeling.
I cannot escape!
And the time it is now use the motion.
I cannot escape!
Hands of gold will fall down to the ocean.
I cannot escape!
A little dust stuck on the lense won't harm the view in the end.
A little salt in the wound, oh fantasy don't make a joke of me
The sun will burn a man alive in time.
Writer(s): Trabye
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