He awakes with open eyes. He looks down at the world in his hand. "What happened last night?" he says, “what did I miss? What matters today?" Out of bed, he still stares at other lives, other glimpses than his. The deeper he falls into it all, and that's when he felt the most alive. Don't look back. I swear, nothing stays the same. Don't look back. Like a movie, like a heritage parade: it's all waves and fades. And he kept moving on into a world contrasted and compared. Through the light and the dark, in his window it all looks grey. He took a moment to look up, and see the blue skies of that day. "How could they fear blue skies and want grey skies? How is that a thing anyway?" But it's alright. In the city's lights, he finds something to hide. But it's no use; we won't sit idly by. In the city's lights, she finds her own demise. But it's okay; we won't sit idly by. In the city's lights, we find nothing at all. But in the end, we'll just sit by and watch it all fall apart.
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