MAF circa 1990
Where is that place I can go
And feel free like I belong
Where I can just go with the flow
Sit around singing a song
What can become of this need
When it is not a reflection
Of what we do in deed
Make the connection
Why though do I seek this paradise?
It burns inside me as any hunger does.
When surely living presently will suffice,
Do I need to dull this as naïve and covetous?
How can I finally be content?
Or should I really even care
Contentment being close to acquiescence.
Perhaps the worst I fare.
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Thanks!
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