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Jan 2015
I drop hints like bread crumbs, hoping they'll lead you straight to me.
But they're blown away by vultures, searching for another body.

Again I see you slipping, falling, falling back into his arms.
Again I try to keep you grounded, standing tall against his charm.

My little bird, come back to me.
Written by
Masked Pain
284
   --- and Joseph Schneider
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