| Whispering ghosts, seduction unlikely
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| Just out of reach, The Abduction of Psyche
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| The small violences
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| The emptiness of chairs and freezing cold silences
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| Words that could ruin me, sharp knives and peeling paint
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| Wanting to be deep inside you and feeling faint
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| It’s hard, we are lost
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| Invisible to each other, on fire and star-crossed
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| There’s a circle around you and caring loves
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| It’s like I’m touching your face while I’m wearing gloves
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| The trees keep our secrets, eternities curse them
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| Evil and pure, the winds try to coerce them
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| Echoing stillness, reduced with kisses
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| Lowercase x’s and useless wishes
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| Cuts on your skin that are deep but are fast-healing
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| The edges, the one-way streets, and the glass ceiling
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| This is a sickness that embraces me warmly
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| Something obscene, a machine that’ll speak for me
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| It makes me nervous
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| I miss you though, and I wish that I could kiss you slow
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| There’s a shadow on my heart and it goes against
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| The feuding sea, the house is empty, including me
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| I don’t wish to be alone, but what am I supposed to do
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| Being sung to sleep each night by the ghost of you
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| There’s only one of us, parallel, nowhere to dwell
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| Valuable and rare as well, thinking thoughts we’re scared to tell
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| There’s only one of us, far apart, it’s hard to start
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| Looking for a star to chart, all alone and heart to heart
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| There’s only one of us, parallel, nowhere to dwell
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| Valuable and rare as well, thinking thoughts we’re scared to tell
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| There’s only one of us, far apart, it’s hard to start
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| Looking for a star to chart, all alone and heart to heart |