One dying breed
The era of his time
The switching camp
Like the flow of the wind
He can't stay long
He will feel restless
Every time he needs to move
Without putting his root
Like the wind
He will go anywhere
Thinking he can belong
But the truth is he couldn't
One dying breed
Sit down to meditate
It is his only way
Nothing will work for him
He can't hide his lies
It is written by his switching camp
He will feel restless
Thinking he can belong
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