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Morning mist lies on the valley,
Dust is blinding tired eyes.
Awaiting the fiend there`s no friend, no alley
While we`re watching an overcast sky.
Looming ahead those sails coming nearer,
A crow in the trees yells its warning cry,
Slowly the sight is becoming clearer -
Won`t the Gods forsake us, not let us die?
Opening my eyes gazing into bright sunlight
I found just having had a bad dream.
The crow cheers me happily, flying alongside
Of my reverting time machine.
Now and then
Now and then.