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See, it's happening constantly
to time of death from time of birth;
look around, i know you'll see it -
the earth returning to the earth.
See flowers growing in the spring,
summer blooms preparing for fall -
the leaves turn brown, blooms are no more -
and, in the winter, dying all.
The whole of life is like the rain:
falling from life and then dying.
We all from our origins fall;
life from us is always flying.
In the end, our blood is but rust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
