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Jan 2021
I wandered by the wayside
till I wore out my traveling shoes.
I stopped and smelled the roses,
it seemed to be that time was mine to lose.
But when the thorns drew blood,
I saw how little time I had to choose
To pluck the rose, or bleed out with
The rosebud blues
A song about everything you hate
Written by
Brody Blue  27/M/Amarillo
(27/M/Amarillo)   
866
 
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