they say you don't know what you got 'til it's gone / / they say that your darkest hour comes before your dawn

Friday, April 22, 2011

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I will to you the smell of burning leaves
Rusted windchimes and the feverish glow of fireflies
We were such terrible liars
We were such passionate lovers
We were such terrible liars
We were such passionate lovers
So call me on your long walks home
Where drunken voices bleed into one

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