A cry for help, a hint of anaesthesia
The sound from broken homes,
we used to meet always here
As he lays asleep she takes him in her arms
Some things I have to do
but I don't mean you harm
Sometimes I wonder where has all the love gone. Did it use to be everywhere and now it is gone. Or is it like Pleasantville in reverse where the love is slowly drained away in favor or commerce and mobility
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