I don't want to be the one who has the sun's blood on my hands,
I'll tell the moon, take this weapon forged in darkness,
Some see a pen, I see a harpoon.
The start of a day when we put on our face,
A mask that portrays that we don't need grace,
On the eve of a day that is bigger than us,
But we open our eyes 'cause we're told that we must,
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