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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ De la dissolution de la démocratie dans la ploutocratie ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2016-10-11 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] |
I'm bursting up from the inside
Growing up into the street lights, Flying high on empty feelings, Rising up to meet the greetings. You met me, I had your number, I wore shorts, you smelled like trouble, Never knew I needed someone, At the end, I was your no-one. You come up, I'll meet you downstairs You relax, I'll fold the armchairs Don't you breathe, I'm losing air, I ring you up, you ring my bell. Let's go out, you look so sleepy, I dress up, you're going creepy, Don't wait up, I'll make the breakfast; Smell it up, I'm out the door. Seen it all under my low-lit Crashing house, under your post-it That you left after the break-up, Let's keep in touch until the re-up. You black-out in lonely love-cribs, I space-out from folding payslips; Needed more than just a cut-scene From the door to our love scene. Holding up, while I push the ceilling, Looking blank, I know the feeling, I'll be angry, you go do your time. I let you go, you were never mine.
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