Pay Them in Dollars, Fuck Their Daughters
And Turn It Into Wonderland

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Mood:
Emotions of the Past

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That's great. It's nice. You moved on. I can't. You found someone new. I'm not allowed to, remember? I see you again, it cuts me up inside. And the person I share that with is me. You don't know me anymore, so don't come down here with your great new life and expect me to do things your way. Go home.


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