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Aug 2015
Your face became a field of pain
Plowed by tears that watered themselves
Somebody tried to make it a parking lot
But you're not so sad to give yourself away
You let that tear start all the blame
It traced the times he loved someone else
You tried not to remember what pride never forgot
But this time the roses let the thorns have their say
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
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