A stone wall weathers with age
It's number becomes more feint
A beginning more distant away
What makes a spirit finally rest
Still dressed in its Sunday best
See how time wears us down
So when a leaf falls to the ground
Slowly becoming dust turning brown
Perhaps erased by the sands of time
Endlessly shaping in the ground
Just biding my time I guess
I think I’ll just hang around
Run a little while longer if I can
Separating who knows what from where
No hurry to be already gone then there
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