Rivers rage and the rapids flow,
Music calms me like a tragic soul,
thats something i got the fetish for,
let me get high let the magic soar,
it is, if it is atleast known,
now my soul is that little grown,
this is what keeps me grounded on cloud 9,
and i come back when escalators r fine,
almost nothing rhymes,
and i find inspiration in torrid times,
when my fake smile shows, all seems fine,
i discover a planet and say its mine*
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