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The Lost & Placed
May 30, 2009
She has come, she has come. Oh why? In hell we Breath out of tubes of Lice. Just leave me your heart, until you believe I'm sorry. Money walks a life of dissapointment, while I'm on my High horse, so High. I can't believe I'm wrong. So die all my feelings black, and I will return the paste for your paint, I will treat my Hangover. In prison I dream of the town, in the gogorian tempest.
© Anonymous
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