***
It holds enought. More feelengs in a hout-crade.
In a cross fade.
In a momental reason of moment.
In a cross, grave, hurricane.
My body dying...maybe.
The birds are flying...labely.
In a croud, in my descression,
In a stupid fury-session
I am only one beetwen the hours of depression...
Just try to do it.
Just bring me feelengs in a stupid hour-head...you know, it stays nothing....
My body dying...it singin out my soul,
The birds are flying...maybe only one.
The storm is coming...hurricane.
My body dying...i'm fade away.
J - U - S - T B - E M - O - R -E
E - X - P - R - E - S - S - I - V - E
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