quinta-feira, 20 de maio de 2010

This love is bittersweet. It's always incomplete.
Right now your killing me because everything that you say, and every time that you stay, I see that now you have changed and I'm the one that you blame
When the night, turns to day I know that people change but you just stay the same.
You would swear, On your grave, That you would never become exactly what you hate...

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