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(Idea,Idea)

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It hit me like (lies,knives) on a (warm,windy) (day,night). Bitter feelings in a life of (morning,mourning) It encompasses all of the senses, all feeling. Everything keeps (still,spinning) like leaves on the bushes. The only home I feel safe in, the only constant I’ve known. Once everything falls, I only have (you,nothing) to cling to. In the end all we have is (hope,hope).





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