And every thing I love about you is a mess

Be my unholy, my one and my lonely

I know that I'm supposed to love you
21 February 1990
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  • ohgodrightTHERE

I guess that it's typical

To cling to memories you'll never get back again

And to sort through old photographs

Of a summer long ago or a friend that you used to know

And there below

His frozen face

You wrote the name and that ancient date

And you can't believe that he's really gone

POWERED BY PUBLICONS.DE This is what I'm about.
Friend at will.
So close that your hand on my chest is my hand; So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep
I saved up all my sunshine just to see you more clear
Can't wait to move to the city

Is probably addicted.
Likes flowers and other girly whatsits.
Likes backhoes and steam rollers and other manly whatsits.
Entirely dependant on words.
Also entirely dependant on sounds.
Thusly dependant on beautiful lyrics.
Likes good company.
Loves her big gay band.
Loves photos of her big gay band.
Loves photos.
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