鈥our train of thoughts always passing here. When its falling paint and its broken gears, it's the damn revelation blues. When you see the path and you know you won't be the last, Oh Lord
I was more than a terror, I was crying too鈥� But you showed me in the gusts between, that a wind is sometimes broken and it's flying path. Has no meaning nor a ghost within
When your talent is in hiding, that your feeling is always wrong and I always want to bring you something but sometimes they're just roses dying too young鈥�
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