the sky looks pissed
the wind talks back
my bones are shifting in my skin
and you, my love, are gone
my room seems wrong
the bed won't fit
I cannot seem to operate
and you, my love, are gone
so glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore
and when you come around again
then I will take the chain from off the door
I'll never say I'll never love
but I don't say a lot of things
and you, my love, are gone
so glide away on soapy heels
and promise not to promise anymore
and when you come around again
then I will take...
then I will the chain from off the door
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