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Than a journey through space or a storyline
More to life than the body can sense
Than the mind can conclude from experience
Does who we are begin with breath,
depend on form or end with death
Strip away these roles, these names
And tell me what remains,
who you really are, who you really are
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Or the bonds that we form or the deeds we do
These too shall pass
as hard as we try to hold on to form, form will die
But inherent in this dance of form
is the chance to see what's yet unborn
And the choice to throw this chance away
And be caught up in the play
Of who we think we are who we think we are
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Where is your attention?
Where is your prayer? where is your song ?
In a fortunate life comes a call to be free
From a cycle of bondage and dis-identity
To wake from the dream and finally realize
The truth of one's being before the body dies
So before the final scene is past,
See the screen on which it's cast
See what's seeing this - me and you
And then you will see
Who, who you really are
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