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Oct 2013
Truth be told, it's getting old
Couldn't decide whether to toss you
Or cross you
Lips like limes and cyanide
Slip a thread around my neck
Press the dimmer in my eyes
With every lie, every lie
Every look, "until next time"
Put me to rest, I love your bed
Miss sleepy head
Since when did I have a bed time?
Calli Kirra
Written by
Calli Kirra  23/Los Angeles/London
(23/Los Angeles/London)   
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