Smiling like we feel it all
Touches from the golden sun
Rum & Coke existences, where we permit ourselves all of these dreams
Why not stay awhile, push to a boisterous point
Punch the clock, take stock, make amends for our each and every problem
Strike a match, hatch a plan, watch the candle burn
Your face is like a correctional facility where my lips will go to breathe

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