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So, hide behind that ink pen and wit you're so proud of. But I know the truth. You're like a child lost in a shopping mall. Alone, clinging to passersby. Wanting to ask the clerk to page your family, but too shy to suggest. So, hide behind your so-called friends and flee from your idiosyncrasies. But, you and I both know you're a deserter. smile and laugh with them, but you're still coming home with me. So, hide behind your charisma and guile. You're not as clever as you think because, I'm still here when you close your eyes And you're still taking me home with you.
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Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 9:48 AM UTC
Passenger
So, hide behind that ink pen and wit you're so proud of. But I know the truth. You're like a child lost in a shopping mall. Alone, clinging to passersby. Wanting to ask the clerk to page your family, but too shy to suggest. So, hide behind your so-called friends and flee from your idiosyncrasies. But, you and I both know you're a deserter. smile and laugh with them, but you're still coming home with me. So, hide behind your charisma and guile. You're not as clever as you think because, I'm still here when you close your eyes And you're still taking me home with you.
charles-barnett
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Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 9:48 AM UTC
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