To reach the point you begin to see
Death cannot be our real destiny
That death is the boogie-man under the bed
The part of us we love to fear
What is scarier than love
To love the thing you fear
To come to the place you start to sway
Between two worlds two dreams
Separated by your own personal abyss
Every morning every night
To have perceived the little man
Who hangs with his arms outstretched
Holding back the sun and the moon
So even you can pass
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