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Move over it’s getting kind of late. Eyelids grow heavy and at this hour start to ache. The covers hide away All our mistakes. And so do I stop to question why do… …White feathers dance in my room while I’m too tired to sleep? It seems your pillow case all trussed in lace was no match for me and you. No matter what it is Your hurting again. Like lessons learnt in ways, stunned silence reigns. Clear like chrystal I understand your malcontent and while words may not quite mean as much, I hope this never ends. |
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