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May 2
I stare into your eyes, feeling myself coming down from a high
Moving your lips, pressing them to the inside of my thigh
Craving another hit of the sweet sin you filled me with
Late nights and hotel keys, my clothes tossed in the backseat
I’m left with an insatiable taste for unholiness dressed in grace
But nothing is working and you’re a quick fix with a pretty face
Written by
TPS  F
(F)   
108
 
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