I am the skin in which I live, the skin that is imperfect like a crack in a layer of dust. I rub the trail behind me, hopelessly, I breathe in unhurriedly, I wait motionless when happiness is the way. Happiness is the way, happiness is the way. I am the skin in which I live, the skin that is imperfect like a crack in a layer of dust. I rub the trail behind me, hopelessly, I breathe in unhurriedly, I wait motionless when happiness is the way. Life is the way. Life is the way. Life is the way. Life is the way. Life is the way. Life is the way. Life is the way.
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