Time's ruin washes out our colour. Slowly turning everyone, into somebody else, a faint reflection They wouldn't recognise In their own adolescent mirror. Reduced, like a recording of your own echo Busy chasing dreams that weren't even our own Til we're so lost We don't know the way home And then, honey... There's you! Every month an upgrade. Every year, not diminishing, But refining. Honed and sharpened, Into the perfect realisation Of yourself. Taking your own cutting edge

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