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a short poem/song. about a girl, and our future. |
| See I had this idea We would find a place Ripe age of nineteen Waking up with your face Something like a Sunday Lazy, tryin to stay awake Two kids who beat the blues I’m gonna get it out of you So a million phone calls Constructed this construction “I miss you” and all its functions It must mean something One room apartment This is how we’d start it 9 out of 10 you’d agree But the other one Well those no other one I’ve been marking the miles and minutes As the seconds sting Patient girl, We’ll have everything My lady my lady, oh Retractable claws Dig into me, And relax your jaws We’ve been talking for so long |