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#1 (permalink) |
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that's my war face.
Join Date: Nov 2005
Posts: 1,412
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my matchstick girl wakes herself up
from her slumber by the gutter her withered frame speaks a thousand words that her mouth can barely mutter s'all smiley and bright on this grim winters night for the lovers holding hands under the lampost light I hold out my arms and I ask her to dance to that song in my head formed purely by romance will be built upon when I'm not this tired
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