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I told you this will be my falling.
The sets of lies.
I should warn you all, the questions downpour and undermine...
But the response was like an anvil, so hold my rope and let me float down the five stories I fall.

This is your last night home.
Would you go out alone?
This is your last night home.

So this is what we talk about?
No.
So this is where we talk it out?
No.

I assume the storm tossing me around bears solace.
Only you are drowning.

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