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Thursday, August 18, 2011
I've been waiting, pacing along the halls ever since you left here.
It's true. I do write in books.
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I wonder, how's it gonna be when you don't know me.
I saw the scene unfold on a rainy Sunday.
There's a low moon caught in your tangles.
Here's a hand to lay on your open palm today.
Of angels and angles.
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out.
My kind's your kind, I'll stay the same.
No, they'll never catch me now.
Oh, the dashboard melted, but we still have the ra...
Well I'll float on maybe would you understand?
I'm yours, and suddenly you're mine.
Old gypsy woman spoke to me, lips stained red from...
We travel without seatbelts on, we live this close...
I've been waiting, pacing along the halls ever sin...
And when she sings, I hear a symphony.
We're kings among run aways.
In matching blue raincoats.
She came to my show just to hear about my day.
And we don't care about the young folks.
There are angels in your angles.
There's no people like show people
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