But // in the end // I'm only friends with silence
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There's // a room for knitting longing
The space where I // rest all tired
The space where I // always meet you
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If everyone // throws away suffering, // sorrow, // and all his friends
Maybe it's just me // who's willing to accompany them
Because maybe // I'm // already dead
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And, don't come near me // because the dead have no heart // to think about other people's views and even the world
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