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Forgotten Fields

In the tree-lined cities in forgotten fields

Some are born too pretty, some are born too real

Some to death-wish pity, while the selfish steal

Some groundSo just hunch back plans to start to feel

As the rise of man names his price to deal

It's look Ma, no hands on the steering wheel

Going round

Goes round...

Slows downSome are early blooms, some are made to wait

Some arrive too soon, some way too late

Some think the moon can navigate

Life round...Hey, can't you see

What will be?

Can't you see?It's behind you...

What's behind you

Look behind you...Hey, can't you see

What will be?

Can't you see?

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