One... two... three... four...
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You can see the spot on her floor,
Where her blue-green carpet is worn
Wishing she could walk out the door
Forget how bad her heart has been torn
One, two, three, four
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She has music blaring
Supposed to keep her from losing her mind
Supposed to keep her from caring
If only her tormentor weren't so kind
One two three four*
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He's still unaware of his slight
She's pacing, reciting Poe in her head
He's unaware of her pain every night
She's wishing her heart was dead
Onetwothreefour
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Her fingers twine through her hair
Berating herself for thinking of him
She hears a few strands tear
But paces on, ignoring them
My typical day I spend at least an hour or two (sometimes more) pacing and listening to music. Lately it's been more.