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In the broken hearts of yesteryear, It was rushes of color, hue, and screams. You hear the sounds you heard; you’re doing it once again. “For you, I’d wait.” Do you remember that? Do you remember that rotten smile? I do, Dear. I do. On mountains of dead dreams, That’s where we are in the atmosphere I heard the words you said; we’re dying slowly from here. “Hey, Remember me?” I’m on the other end of the valley of Death. We are, Dear. We are.
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Days gone by
In the broken hearts of yesteryear, It was rushes of color, hue, and screams. You hear the sounds you heard; you’re doing it once again. “For you, I’d wait.” Do you remember that? Do you remember that rotten smile? I do, Dear. I do. On mountains of dead dreams, That’s where we are in the atmosphere I heard the words you said; we’re dying slowly from here. “Hey, Remember me?” I’m on the other end of the valley of Death. We are, Dear. We are.
thompson-george
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
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