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Aug 2012
I could tell them that you're dead.
Pretend you're not around, watch your ghost jump
billboards, flying out of town.
Keep the night behind you,
Keep your hands over your head.

Don't tell me to miss you,
don't repeat what I said.
Bewitchment and trials,
or whispering in bed.

Keep the ocean moving,
hope that the river remains calm.
Tell me everything that you hope happens,
and again, remind me why you're gone?

Messages in bottles,
paper stitched in the center, written in a song,
your words make me feel better.

I don't blame you for not liking anything you see.
Worms of disgust, hate, and deceit
crawling inside of me.
Penny Lane
Written by
Penny Lane
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