

tempoThe music in June was to another tune. The notes on the bar were steady and far.tempo
You throw me a rest that stops my chest, And an eighth to question my faith.
The coda was passed, now it's back to the past. The tempo isn't tame, but now I'm to blame.
The pulse in my brain may keep me insane, but the rhythm of my heart can't keep us apart.
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Who works with his hands is a laborer ...
Who works with his hands and mind is a craftsman ...
Who works with his hands, mind and heart ..
Is an artist!
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..and Austalia's still like [WTF ^^] mate..
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