Sprung to life out of mystery's view
When do you know there's been enough?
So many choices, chances at glory
But when it all is passed
Who decides the final push?
Why is there no rule, a sign for change?
If the time is not ripe, who might fall?
Ever wonder of the little guy...
The one the flame feeds on
Have you thought of him in pst?
Do you know his time was not right?
Almost a shiver of hope on his head
But no longer a part of his heart
He roams the streets, already dead.
 
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