the clock is set for never 'til twelve I close my eyes and see myself passing countless vacant frames as all the beauty slowly drains to an empty theater a blackened screen where the silence lasts till the day begins there're few things that I wouldn't give to dream a young man's dream again the confidence to set aside the things that I have settled for I cried a tear of grief in joy for visions of a little boy whose arrogance made him believe he could be anything he wanted to be dream again
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