Percentage Of You | Hypnotic Trance

AI generated song by my lyrics. Hypnotic Trance. Lyrics: The myth of seven years is dead, The measured truth is plain to see. In one short year, so much is shed, Full ninety-eight percent will flee. You are a stream, not frozen will, Not stone, not bone, not set in place. The parts you thought were deep and still Have changed, and left no single trace. The atoms that you think you know Will not remain within your frame. In one short year they start to go And join the world from which they came. They'll enter people, earth, and skies, The water, soil, the blades of grass. The bones, the teeth, the lens of eyes Will stay behind as years will pass. The memories you hold so dear Will shift and fade, will change their shape. The thoughts you think are crystal clear Are not a permanent landscape. You are not teeth, you are not bone, Nor just the lens that lets you see. So if these things are not your own, What then remains? What can it be? Inside, you are the present thought, The feeling that you call your own. Outside, the waves that you have brought Will travel on, and they have flown. These waves are what the world will keep, Unchanged by years, untouched by rust. Without the inner, they would sleep, Without the outer, turn to dust.