True Love Never Diez
my lonely, torn, delouted heart criez
spoken before the thoughts began
your grace rings miserably.
Shadowland of the spirits
dream on, dream on.
Say it like you mean it,
"The Poet needs the pain".
Curse your hand,
son of a bitch.
my lonely, torn, delouted heart criez
spoken before the thoughts began
your grace rings miserably.
Shadowland of the spirits
dream on, dream on.
Say it like you mean it,
"The Poet needs the pain".
Curse your hand,
son of a bitch.
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