I walk not alone
in the shadows of whispers
Yet I be alone
I talk not of games
in the shadows of gangsters
Yet I be in games
I will hoot, not shoot
I will yell, not shell
I will pray and play
Yes, I will live, though I leave
and can leave since I live
Oh, I be alone
Joining the multitude has its strings, stings and rewards. Being alone must hold something. It brings pain, gain and refrain. Both these stances be as old as time. No preaching
Pray, we are where we are! Despite the crowd...Despite the cold.
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