the moral of low nights
Once more this day ends up lonely, where every past hid from us (think past dangers, around corners) a walk down stranded colorado roads, everything born here is locked here somehow, alone and waiting for cool air to come back and dry lips (from kisses) earn our free ride out of town for a few short hours and back Where each of us has always belonged, always will Always will and good to be (long).
2004-10-22 | 10:37 a.m.
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