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The Routine

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I wake up and eat breakfast
I take my plate out and let someone do the rest
Then i go to my little school, my little institution
Forgetting on the saddle of my bike,
That this is just an illusion
Some kind of abstraction of what constitutes "me"
And all around are faces of glee
But they aren't smiling, they're attending a masquerade
And their true complexions start to fade
Just want to shake them and yell to their faces the truth
Knowing the chances of success
Are as big as a fairy comes looking for a tooth



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