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The Clock Stops Always and Never
Its Hands Move Forever
At the End of Every Central Point
One Finds Nothing to Exploit
Nothing Left but the Sound of Tears
But the Dark is What We Fear
Chimes of a Box From Forgotten Pasts
Lies a Void So Ever Vast
By Byron ByrdThe Clock Stops Always and Never
Its Hands Move Forever
At the End of Every Central Point
One Finds Nothing to Exploit
Nothing Left but the Sound of Tears
But the Dark is What We Fear
Chimes of a Box From Forgotten Pasts
Lies a Void So Ever Vast