Dither
(2002)
Fading, an ebb of laughter
Returning, a flow of colours
Taciturn now, there is nothing left to say
All words won’t be enough to make you stay
When you go, just please take it all away
I’d rather be left with nothing
Than be haunted by your days
Branded milquetoast and I guess they’re right to say
That all I’ve lost, I don’t
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