Shadows are hanging heavy on the things I love.
I'm veiled along with them, but when will it become all right to believe in sunrise?
I live a smiling life of thrill and magic, with luxuries like Brooklyn Bridge and carousels.
But despite my shine, I'm shadowed myself:
broken, heavy, lost.
Doing everything right is too hard.
None of us holds the answers (joy!)
Even the righteous are silenced
We'll keep longing to leave the shadows.
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