the sheets within the grip of my fingertips,
now my thoughts drift to something I miss.
you pull my hair and whisper lies,
yet I don't seem to mind.
I was the spark that made you feel alive,
don't you miss the way we used to survive?
the sheets within the grip of my fingertips,
now my thoughts drift to something I miss.
you pull my hair and whisper lies,
yet I don't seem to mind.
I was the spark that made you feel alive,
don't you miss the way we used to survive?
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