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I feel as though life has been passing me by
It feels like I'm at a train station
Watching the trains pass
Wonder which one was mine
It's hearing a busker's guitar, calm peaceful
We stand their in our own melancholic solitude
Not daring to look up
Buried in our own self doubt
It's watching clouds roll over blue skies
It's watching the seconds tick
Waiting for the clock to fall
And my body to decay
It was laying in the grass
Trying to become a bug
It was standing in the rain
To become a puddle
I think of these things
These thoughts of death that plague my brain
I watch another train go by
The next one, I think,
I'll get on