angela for the bass notes

so i'll try to fly, and maybe stretch my arms too thin, but fall and it'll be graceful enough. maybe you'll still love me then, and there'll be no more of these acid stares and catacomb wanderings through and around your life (diamonds for the soul) and like-light but you're
you're never coming home, are you?

2003-05-11 | 3:26 p.m.
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