Your deformed self
The Inside Mind
The deformed red beauty
It can still be filled
Yes, it can still
The gentle voice that I arrived at, lead the way as I wandered
Burning with the decaing trees in the parade
The right and the left still remain
Love it without caring about how it looks
Is it love in the right hand?
What's in the left hand?
I am pretty
Image
The sunset waits
My locked-up heart sways back and forth
Tomorrow, I am still
In the time of agitation is faint hope
Your dirty lies
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