Music, my time machine
when I look at her,
I here my heart,
tapping to a beat that can not change
gathering collections from forests Ive seen
sipping the maple from trees that they've hanged
reincarnated to something between,
a face, a street, a book Ive read
A school, some thrill, or some tear thats bled
Its me in the end that cant remember when
the passion inside is what I have

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