Every fool that falls,
Falls a bit faster.
Everytime he falls
he finds some reason
some shameful mechanism,
to get up and fall again.
With every winter gone by
I write a letter
And if I were to live forever
I'd do it all the same.
It is addressed to some fool
in the future
older and maybe looser
just in case that he forgets,
the things he used to say
Today may be the day...
I know there is music in my heart,
yet its early to let go.
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