I cried, for I didn't think it could be true.
That you and I might have always known one another.
And that we could not only evoke, but conjure a place of our own.
And everywhere. That has ever existed.
Is all on the surface of our dream.
Now please. Hear what I hear.
Let me explain.
This ugliness, this cruelty, this repulsiveness.
It will all die out.
And now, I cry for all that is beautiful.
Let me explain.
Writer(s): Porter Robinson
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