love dies

look beyond the lies and stars
past the dreams that no one achieves
our race of crossed souls is dying off
someday we’ll become extinct and gone
our hearts displayed in museums
little gold plaques proclaiming
only pure love makes perfect agony
our diaries become history books
and children ask the elderly
what was it like back then?
how sad this is, this world
love is an old-fashioned idea
its my turn to fly
father be with me tonight
i’m right on target
keep the dream alive
its my turn to fly
gotta prove this tonight

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