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What's The Point

By Bruce Clifford

There's a cool cold air coming up from the ground
Causing a reflection that turns this world upside down
Feel the heat rising from the other side of town
You take me to this place where one could never hear a sound
The enemy is all around

Looking into a mirror at the reflection that once was me
Tracing my foot prints in the dark in search of history
The quiet of this noise inside my mind beneath the sea
Sending off this vacant thought to eliminate inconsistency

What's the point
I'm falling in
What's the point
I don't know where to begin
What's the point
Just holding onto the line
What's the point
Just wasting all this time
What's the point?

What's the point in taking this
It's going way too far
What's the point of giving in
No one cares who we really are
What's the point of showing up
Everyone else comes late
What's the point of driving off
Who wants to be in my place

Looking into a mirror at the speculation of who I might be
Reflecting the radar into the night in this world of mystery
Indigo and violet shapes turn fossils into I used to be
The limelight of this shadow glow within everything that we see

What's the point in taking this
It's going way too far
What's the point of giving in
No one cares who we really are
What's the point of showing up
Everyone else comes late
What's the point of driving off
Who wants to be in my place

©3/3/04 Bruce Clifford  

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