black box
And when the rain has washed away the debris,
When it has extinguished the lingering sparks,
And all that is left is the carcass of our old selves,
Our shocked souls will examine it all,
With our hands blackened by the soot,
Desperately we will look through it all,
Hoping to find the black box.
When it has extinguished the lingering sparks,
And all that is left is the carcass of our old selves,
Our shocked souls will examine it all,
With our hands blackened by the soot,
Desperately we will look through it all,
Hoping to find the black box.
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