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Sep 2016
I always think it's over, until drunken nights when I beg to come over
You can smell the ***** on my breath
I sense the disappointment judging by the look on your face
I know how badly you crave the taste
You're sober
I know I'm going nowhere
*But I always end up back in your bed
monica
Written by
monica
  668
   Madi and IDS
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