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writhering rose called life

Why do i cry out for you in my sleep oh oh, why do I love you with my every thing, I dream that your with me but why, when your not here I realize what i am with out, so please stay with me when we die so we can lie in the clouds and be proud that one or both of us has made a difference in this crule crule world, but like they life is a writhering rose in wich no one truly remembers what some one else has done for them, they don't know a friendly face until that face says god bye forever, all I know is: that the day I stop loveing you is the day that i close my eyes for good oh oh, oh no i feel empty with out you.



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