the motives in front of our actionsthe trees before the sky
and our uncountable buildings
what do we want with all the attention
without receding into a cave
being yourself doesn't need applause
everyone has something to say
except everything natural
unable to formulate
being in tune with the orchestra
you get less attention
than a mad man walking down woodward ave.
naked
yelling that he's had enough
police sirens
everyones just doing their job
what are you working for?
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