Waiting on a Sunday afternoon for what I read between the lines, your lies. Feeling like a hand in rusted shame so do you laugh or does it cry ? reply ?. Leaving on a southern train only yesterday you lied, promises of what I seemed to be only watched the time go by, all of these things you said to me. Breathing is the hardest thing to do. With all I have said and all that is dead for you, you lied, good bye. Leavin' on a southern train only yesterday you lied promises of what I seemed to be only watched the time go by, all of these things I said to you.
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