Do we have the time to lay the line between true life, and you in mine.
I want to reel it back before the day when simplicity was washed away.
Pull the wool on my eyes, like a crooked, burnt-out saint.
I believed and soaked in every word you said,
always tasting red hands.
But the fight never ended and we're all here.
Singing loud for revolution, and
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Comments 1
sooo, i'm pretty sure you were drunk throughout our talking last night.
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