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...and the heart still scribes. |
| all the depths come risin' decays freshen up n' i need to choose everythin'. i try to inflate my hopes to help my sorrows keep me happy n' i can't chase the things no more i feel happy in. yes mr. plant you can go for the heavens if you want to but i'm sick n' tired of justifyin' my life when i've already chosen to run away from the people i love. n' now i choose silence as my language with all the age old stories i'll want to tell forever n' i still choose to wait when i've made sure i've got absolutely nothin' at all to wait for. |