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past imperfect - ampere lyrics

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we won’t play your game. ou wrote the book,
made the rules.
we are excerpts from the same book,
dog-eared but not worn out.
all books reach an ending.
so, then, will our movement.
gather all your hang-ups feed them to the sharks.
we’ll inhabit the sp-ce between the two extremes:
so alive in body so devoid of heart.
we knew there would be no future;
that was our greatest freedom.

- ampere lyrics

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