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So cold. So close.

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Why can't we look at things too closely
Or feel Or tell Or taste them closely
Those you bite, bite back...well           mostly
Why can't we get what we think we deserve?

Why can't we make them understand
Our friends and freindliers understand
That we're not as common as grains of sand
Why can't our memories be preserved?

Sometimes at night, I try to pretend
I like to not be scared pretend
And think of all the time we'll spend

And I try not to feel so cold







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