The melody that her lips don't whisper,
The memory that her eyes refrain to enter,
The feelings that everything forbid,
Though they only exist inside my head,
The visions that I keep myself from seeing,
What might be, but I won't be believing,
The memory that her eyes refrain to enter,
The feelings that everything forbid,
Though they only exist inside my head,
The visions that I keep myself from seeing,
What might be, but I won't be believing,
.:.
These are just a few things that people die from,
They make of an uneasy life, to turn your thoughts around.
They make of an uneasy life, to turn your thoughts around.
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