"... And if we can find where we belong. W
e'll have to make it on our own..."

sábado, 30 de abril de 2011

It's the tearing sound of love-notes
Drowning out these gray stained windows
And the view outside is sterile
And I'm only two cubes down
I'll photocopy all the things that we could be
If you took the time to notice me
But you can't now, I don't blame you
And it's not your fault that no one ever does
And they might fill your place
A temporary stand-in for your face
This happens all the time
And I can't help but think I'll die alone
So I'll spend my time with strangers
A condition and it's terminal
In this water-cooler romance
And its coming to a close
We could be in the park 
and dancing by a tree
Kicking over blades we see
Or a dark beach with a black view
Sometimes I think I'll die alone
Think I'd love to die alone

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