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words
I hope my fingers did not fuck me over again
words have a way, just ring that bell
I am a good man who knows his hell
cigarette ashes in the vase
day old coffee half drunk
cigarette ashes on the plates in the back
would you take me out in the wild, just an old little cabin
with a few old books and read to me by some lake all day,
tell me we don't need the world?
