There's a gold frame
That sits by the window
And my heart breaks
A little more each time I try
To picture the memory inside
There's an notebook
That's too hard to read it
But if you look
You'll see how you look through my eyes
There's an old dance
That we've done forever
You give me your hand
But let me decide when to reach
You always let me be me
martes, 1 de marzo de 2011
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