Star/star/star/star/star/stars.
Frozen, burning, blinding, stretching out their rays into the distance,
and it's taken years for them to reach here.

Year/year/year/year/year/years.
Timeless, ending, dragging, never letting go and then-
All at once they break their hold. 

            Are you left alone?

There are more stars than years to the universe.
There are more stars than grains of sand on the earth.

We are infinite, we are holding,
we are spinning and spinning and continuously moving forward. Always.
We are pushing into the future that we cannot control.

            There is no gripping onto anything that rotates at 1,038 miles per hour. 
            It is useless.

We are still here for now.
We are still looking at the stars and counting down the years.

We keep going, and going, and going.             ( ( (
We are burning, solar fields and yet ---> O ))) ((( o
we are protected. We are                                 ( ( (
here.

We are falling apart at 700 million miles an hour.
We are coming back together,
looking for a familiar sign of light that maybe,
maybe someone else is looking at too, where
you are. Where are you?

We're born from them, you know, star dust and all.
Carbon.

Come on, where ever you are, 
I'll take you inside with an arm around your shoulder.
Take off your jacket, love, if you exist.

As for the stars: they'll be here in the morning.
And if not: we'd be somewhere else.

We'd be in the starlight. 
I believe that, for sure.

I have to.

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