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I miss you |
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every single minute |
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now i don't know if i say it |
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just because i'm stoned |
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or that's a fucking nonsense |
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as if i would be talking to one of my |
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inner voices |
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i feel too empty to create |
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a regular love letter |
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or maybe it's too late for this |
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still the pain last |
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and ain't getting better |
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and now i know |
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it's gonna just take some time |
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to let you go off my mind |
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pink butterfly |
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lost her fingertips |
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would you help her searching |
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we live only three days |
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and i am just about to loose my wings |
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help... |
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still your lick, your touch, your breath, your sight |
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makes me trembling |
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and suddenly i've realized |
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that it's been too adicting |
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and i should be going |
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once my tears would get dry |
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now a slow, slow song |
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the time and life around |
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so i won't keep in hanging in one point |
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like a lost coin |
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your eyes follow me |
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your shade spies me |
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i won't let you make love to me |
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ever again |
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'cause it hurts too much |
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and looking deeply into your eyes |
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i cruelly say |
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that i would rather be a butterfly |
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than one who lets your hand |
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touch one's neck |