I see my breath and I think of god, when will be my last day. I touch your things, they comfort me. My heart is true, as time like sand runs through. Everything is fragile, but you are full of living colour with such a sense of wonder. Months, like June or September will never be the same.
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I see my breath and I think of god, when will be my last day. I touch your things, they comfort me. My heart is true, as time like sand runs through. Everything is fragile, but you are full of living colour with such a sense of wonder. Months, like June or September will never be the same.
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