Sure I’d pay to feel that way again
I’m trying while everything else tends to take it entirely upon said self to rewind and unravel
Travelled the course of the world, quenched a thousand such thirsts
‘Til something died outright inside – and for now my eyes are blinded by an eerie kind of fixture permitting itself too much flow altogether
When will we get to tame the insane and to sit with our minds on wholesome slumber
You are the only one for me, the list of pretty naked numbers far too alarming, not to mention none too outstanding after all – no necessity for ego permitted
Yours the only bed I long to fall face-first atop, to roll on over and stretch this handsome smile a cliche mile – I do adore cliches

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