Don't let them devalue your disbelief
You were right about me, and my grievant speech
My shallow feet are moored in anchorage, respite
Finds me nothing better to do than pass my time
You're getting older
Now rest.
Don't speak a thing, I only drown it with nostalgia
My quickened speech is formatted to your tone
Don't let them tell you, I'm a prince if I'm a peasant
Don't let me hold you down, but please don't scream until I'm done.
You're getting older.
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