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"She was a junkie for the written word; lucky for me, I manufactured her drug of choice."

12 June 2003


and it feels like winter
on a perfect summer day
if I convinced my heart to believe my mind
it might just go away

i can't say the last time i really smiled
it takes a lot now
when you're face down and bleeding from a war
well i know exactly where i've been
and i can't go there again
i need a lot more, i need a lot more than thoughts
i need your touch in my war

- downhere, 'feels like winter'

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