El tiempo para Pink Floyd
And you run and you run to catch up with the Sun
But it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The Sun is the same, in a relative way
But you're older
Shorter of breath
And one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter
Never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught
Or half a page of scribbled lunes
Pink Floyd. Time.
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