Who says?
That pies cannot fill the sky
While we wander around in place
Who knows?
What it is that happens here
How it came to be this way
Who asks?
But those who chase down tomorrow
Wanderers who are unafraid to fly
What's inside?
Maybe the jitters of something new
Or perhaps notions that were left unnamed
What does it mean?
To the ones who question themselves
And the paths that they ramble on
What is real?
But the moments you can clearly touch
And the people you meet in between
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