Sweetness never suits me when I get up to take you home. Maybe it's love, love at first slightly drunk. Now I'm walking with the sun in my mouth. Worry is a well, going to let it fall tonight from where we stand. Sickness, weakness at the thought of how you're going to play. How long should I stay? Promises never cease to assist it; now I'm back on my back. Please, bite your words. Hurry to believe; I can always trust as much as you deceive. What's your middle? How do you play the game? I'll be the first to leave. When do I grow up? I don't want to say too much. I'll be the first to leave. What can't be decided, in the morning it will bring itself to you. What can't be decided can fool you into thinking maybe you can choose. I can see what's coming, but I'm not saying it.
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