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■ The oak
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It's a tough lesson from which I cannot flee
It's so painful, it really hurts me ... I don't like this kind of action, The mighty fever for the elusive perfection But have no power, cannot fight The drug strikes again ... maybe one more night. The world's too big and me too little I stay outside and hold my sickle I drink my milk and then I run In the open, in the forest ... this is really fun! But one rainy day I brought a schoolbag with me, It's a tough lesson from which I cannot flee. I have a farm and a little house Gee! How I love those milking cows ... And I also like my faithful bulls But I hate those convex hulls! My head explodes; it's nasty geometry It's so painful, it really hurts me ... I run outside around my farm Avoiding dogs, but makes me harm I try to smile, to love mankind But words of doom come to my mind! I close my eyes: area, distance, intersection I don't like this kind of action. I hate the curves, so I never drive I hate surfaces - I want to fly or dive I want to sleep, but suddenly I see A shining star, in another galaxy. My deepest inner mind started in a fraction The mighty fever for the elusive perfection. The gentle wind of other springs, A plain, a flower or a bird who sings Are not breathtaking anymore as an epiphany I get From every cryptic lemma, from every number set. I wish to cry, I know what's good and right But have no power, cannot fight. The star is glowing, unearthly dreams now spark I look on the window, but there is too dark. From abstraction's claw I want to break free I want again to see, I want the real me! I try and try, but I eventually turn on the light The drug strikes again ... maybe one more night. The drug strikes again ... maybe one more night But have no power, cannot fight The mighty fever for the elusive perfection, I don't like this kind of action It's so painful, it really hurts me ... It's a tough lesson from which I cannot flee.
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