My bedroom knows only of the rain
My heart struck with love sick pain
I am not who I seem to be
All I dream of is poetry
My heart struck with love sick pain
I am not who I seem to be
All I dream of is poetry
I'm barred to this confine
We all must walk the line
I blame grey for my functions
They never work in conjunction
I blame grey for my functions
They never work in conjunction
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