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.clocks.
broken inside
like a clock that wont tick
losing her mind
and becoming so sick
the days turn to weeks
and the hours to days
as she walks this world
in a painful haize.
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*BlOoDdRoPs08*
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flames to dust, lovers to friends, why do all good things come to an end
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ill draw a picture, a picture on my rist, ill draw it with a razor, ill draw it with a twist, and as i draw this picutre, a fountain will appear and as the fountain starts to flow all my problems will disappear
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