Ooh this could be messy
But you don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime
We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this
I noticed that I seem to have more songs than ravings lately. Bad case of writer's block, not to mention dulled senses, repressed creativity, flagging spirit. But I'm writing about that too. Later.
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