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9:42 p.m. - January 01, 2002 a burning bridge staging a traffic jam intention stained upon expression eyes the skys darkest clouds constipated mountains of condensation at the start there was innocence breaks my heart doesn't make no sense jsut start again that's the recompense just learning to fly in a sense see this chair see this empty room it's innocence there's my heart, there's my open wound it's my only defence 'cause the end always comes too soon just try to get by on a guilt trip and being held hostage i'll wrap my heart around you i'll wrap my arms around you falling down the stairs fitting, isn't it?
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