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  • McInro

    McInro

    There are things that drift away like our endless, numbered days Autumn blew the quilt right off the perfect bed she made And she's chosen to believe in the hymns her mother sings Sunday pulls its children from the piles of fallen leaves
  • Emo_x_Muffin

    Emo_x_Muffin

    Oh yeah? Well........I don't like your pants.