Oh shit, reality has just entered the room
My name is Sibyl, Sibyl Vane
Punctuality is the thief of time, and our inevitable doom
It looms, and I'm crux upon a crucible of pain
I'm a sinner with splendid sins
Out of my secret pocket crept my soul
Free my soul from this prison and let me win
I hate this stage, but I've got to play this role
You look at me with such disdain
And speak with a touch of cruelty of the mouth
So what, I sow poppies in my garden with the summer rain
Do all evil things point south?
Life came between us
You with an idealistic future, and me with a tinge of cynicism
I fell into the habits of distress
While you practiced recidivism
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