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Dec 2010
a million seasons
could pass
and for the last mass on a very special sunday in the fall
for just a few seconds
if you listen carefully down the halls
the white and black keys press firmly on the grand pianoΒ Β in the center of us all
as you slowly sip the gin'
you begin to obviously grin
a smirk a smile short about a mile to thiin

i breathe your scent
masked under **** and cigarette buds

your the one my hearts requesting
forwarded with a can i have my turn again

life doesnt care
Unfortunettly theres no return policy.
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