May 2016
put us down
where our dreams go to die
in the dusty old attic
where our throats become dry
in ten or so years
you will strumble across
what could have been
and what you thought you had lost
where our dreams go to die
in the dusty old attic
where our throats become dry
in ten or so years
you will strumble across
what could have been
and what you thought you had lost
(M/Newcastle, UK)
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