a stretch the length of lips wrapped 'round in yr sheets' music consider something other than a statistic to voice hearts breaking in yr head
i've been mad about since the day you were born didn't know that then your eyes' slow winter frightens i'll make myself scarce in and through them my conveyor belt tongue sends flowers
when i weep you it's simply i don't know always positive i'm not sure how to turn you off i'm wearing you an addiction that smokes through my pores taste it
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