Churning over, Thrashing bout words in my ears swim no new song, you sing an old verse, one I wrote myself I favor glass when my shards are dull And opt for ice when the weathers cold I take my roads but where they lead me Make friends with Anger, Ire, Scold I'm not that caustic... In fact, I feel the anti What a hole I am in... but I cant say I didn't dig it "Meanwhile, A throne lay empty,...

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Published: 1 year, 6 months ago (Sun, 06 Jan 2008 00:56:56 PST); 519 bytes
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