lyrics
If I progress too slowly
Blame my tortoise shell
It protects me from the entire world
And almost everything else
‘Cause if it’s a race we’re running
The humans are bound to win
If I put half the effort
Then I’ll only be half-alien
I’m a highly pressured cold front
In Florida’s summer months
Tropical depressions organize
In the brightness of the sun
Only darkness has the power
That helps me to exist
And when I become fiction
I fulfill everyone’s wish
Graphomania and educated
But nothing gets fully formed
A littered room of alliterations
Scrap papers never leave the floor
And if it’s in man’s ambition
To leave their mark behind
I’ve planted footprints in the sand
The wind will sweep aside
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