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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2010-02-04 | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en english] |
You had enough of me? I often seem to wonder
Sometimes I cry, my face turned to the wall I know, it’s silly yet I can’t stop but ponder The little things like: Does he care at all? I then run to the mirror and turn my lips blood red I take out the mascara, the blushers and instead Of trying to forget you...Oh, I am such a fool I’m rushing to your door-step, breaking another rule. I count to three, a thousand and sometimes I loose count I lean, peek through your key hole without making a sound All I can see is darkness and dust: an empty place For you must always have been my favourite waste of space
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