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Pasty Faces

Jumping, jumping, jumping

My feet leave the groud

Trying to stay grounded

Like a stag that keeps bumping

Their head

 

On a tree

 

While I sit on the branches

Reaching out to catch your dreams

But I know I'm only dreaming

And there are no second chances

Just the knowledge that you're

 

 

 

gone

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Written by
lester-bangs
American
Published
Mar 30, 2012
Lines·Words
12·53
Permission

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