| Staring in your eyes
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| has never brought such tension to my tainted mind.
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| And I can barely lip my words,
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| it seems nothing’s important if it doesn’t hurt.
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| Caught up in such a melancholy game,
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| after tonight it won’t be the same.
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| But I’d never dream for reason
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| behind your interpretation of…
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| What it is to fall in love
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| and what it is to care about…
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| Anything other than your tendencies.
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| I’m at a loss for words.
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| I manage to mumble…
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| The words will mold over time…
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| And I cried:
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| «Maybe you’ll find an answer in what’s left behind.
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| And hopefully you’ll see, there’s not always love growing from every tree.
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| Maybe you’ll find a way, to rewind, to forgive with time.
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| And hopefully you’ll see, it’s not always cold in Buffalo.» |