Since when did spontaneity become a thing of the past?

What’s holding you back?

What’s holding us back?

What have we become?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Are we living in a riddle?

Or a chase?

A puzzle?

A maze?

Two hands clap and there is a sound, what is the sound of one hand?



Said all I want from you is to see you tomorrow
And every tomorrow, maybe you’ll let me borrow your heart
And is it too much to ask for every Sunday
And while we’re at it, throw in every other day to start

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