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Time isn’t linear. It’s sprawling, and swelling in and out. Condensing, expanding. We subject ourselves to the fictitious narrative of ticking clock hands. Look too closely at the time, and you’ll see you let it slip away. Best to tell time by the leaves fallen, or the blossom of a flower.

"She said I can’t take no more,

She’s been alone for too long”

Not many male vocals I vibe with.

Keep on brother