the sky looks pissed, the wind talks back my bones are shifting in my skin, and you, my love, are gone my room seems wrong, the bed won't fit I cannot seem to operate, and you, my love, are gone
so glide away on soapy heels, and promise not to promise anymore and if you come around again, then I will take the chain from off the door
I'll never say "I'll never love" but I don't say alot of things, and you, my love, are gone
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