The ancient man was laying cold, Dying on the white, white sheets; His face was ninety long years old, His heart was pumping its last beats, When suddenly his voice began Reciting seasons of the man: The decades that had drifted past, The pleasures that escaped too fast, The agonies that seemed to last. Is this a dream, or memory? I see morningsful of sun, Fermenting sap inside the tree, Forgotten youth forever done. Is this a dream, or memory Of times that nevermore can be? I remember, I recall The summer fading into fall, I remember, I recall. Is this a dream, or memory? Breezes scattering my hair, Desire that rises wild in me, With every throbbing gust of air. Is this a dream, or memory Of April wind to set me free? I remember, I recall, Those April years I see them all, I remember, I recall. Is this a dream, or memory? Listen to the noise inside My chest it s pounding like the sea, My thoughts are drowning in the tide. Is this a dream, or memory? I walk a beach in far Eternity, I ...
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