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each season they come in swarms
and near the source,
the bodies pile up almost as soon
as they arrive.
not a care in the world
like the mayfly,
you live to make life and die.
since the beginning,
there's been one reason,
one purpose for birth.
if someone's not attracted,
the mission is failed.
i could meet this cement wall
at 80 miles an hour,
and i wonder if it matters
what i'm thinking when i die.
lightning strikes in the distance,
and i almost want to be holding
an umbrella.