The lone and level sands stretch far away…

Bobby McFerrin plays on the computer

and I mourn you before you’re gone

It feels easier that way

If I wait ’til you are gone I will forget you as you are

but if I spearhead

If I jump that gun

maybe it will hurt less once you’ve been shot

We must always practice

Practice makes perfect

So I’ll rehearse for this, as for all things

Shouldn’t death have a dress rehearsal?

Memento Mori

Death comes for us all

I promise I’ll be here when she comes for you

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