Such a sight is rare, Such vividness is rare.
Whatever happens is fine, there's no point in touching anyway.
It's okay to go. There's no point in matching up, anyway.
Shouldering regret, ending it; hating, laughing, picking up; defeated by ideals.
"It can't be helped." "It'll probably happen again anyway."
I have no interest, of course.
Is it okay to jump on in?
In the wake of a red cough, just go somewhere, anywhere.
I must be out of my mind, but...
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