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Faster, faster still

Devoid of meaning

Speed in infinite nothingness, faster still

Worlds turn

The mass of men leads lives of quiet desperation

From this chalice each of us drinks

Searching a potion, finding poison

Give me a light and a mirror to see myself as I want to see myself

Break all the dead lights

Humanity forget

And wash yourself in the light of our dying sun

Tear down the walls and wash yourself in the light of our dying sun