Then five hundred, five days,
That the six hundred, thirty-nine year song,
Changes the note it plays,
It's As Slow As Possible by John Cage,
Though that's a misnomer,
Of course, you won't find anything slower,
But that is human's impatient nature,
Which is a point of the composition,
Whether it's meant or not,
We seldom project beyond our own lives,
As if the world is naught,
Which it might be,
We all know, no one knows,
So, maybe it's as slow as possible,
As far as anybody's real life goes.
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