So I took you for a nineteen in a nightmare that appeared. As a specter up a staircase in a mirror. For days, I gave you head below a chandelier and the cool kids didn't seem to care. But in the wild, you're as good as mine.
It doesn't make sense, living this way, like hoping for shit. Happiness, man, it melts in our...
Was I dreaming of your regular hair? Cause it seems like I'm staring on your shoulder blades when I am. So how could I ever come to you?
It doesn't make sense living this way, like hoping for shit all the time. Cause happiness, man, it melts in our hands.
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