i think i'll do nothing for a long, long time
unclench my wrist, my songs are barely mine
my truce are subtle, and when i sing
i barely rhyme
oh shaky lips,
my limbs, sweet stirring of your thighs
in my eyes, i can't lie
i'm not fine
i could die
make a list of things i miss
to fill that void
guess you can't buy back your time
(refrain from mine)
don't fold me
in your baby's lullaby.

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