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B1: When I cease and desist, And forever disperse, Will there still be a thing left of me?
B2: When you stop to exist You'll no longer resist Being everything else you can be.
B1: When you stop being you, Skies will never be blue, Winds will always be out of their breath.
B2: When I stop being me, I'll be all you can see: What is gone is a part of what's left.