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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