Strolling through tunnels of memories
Attempting to turn them to rust
And live in a world full of fantasy
That still doesn’t feel good enough
And I feel like I’m in a crime scene
There’s a white chalk line surrounding me
In a film that feels like forever
Playing over and over again
Smelling of roses and vinegar
And dressed like an actress on drugs
Her clothes must have cost her a fortune
But the stains say all too much
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