Понедельник, 27 Июля 2009 г. 21:53
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Dark rope on the wrist,
all the life is a mist.
We are living underground,
making even any sound.
Making secrets, makin fuss.
Glossing glamour's making us.
We are living underground, starring silly all around.
Patterns, copies, replicas...
Everyone is one of us.
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