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Am I real and what do I feelHate is half a heartOnly I am in my armsYou were sold to something to holdNothing's as rude as the coldStupidly beautifoolish true youMaybe madness is a heartMaybe heaven is a habigIf I could fly I'd live in the skyI come from whyAnd obviously you do tooThe very start of everything hardCould be the slip of a fingertip
Am I real and what do I feelHate is half a heartOnly I am in my armsYou were sold to something to holdNothing's as rude as the coldStupidly beautifoolish true youMaybe madness is a heartMaybe heaven is a habigIf I could fly I'd live in the skyI come from whyAnd obviously you do tooThe very start of everything hardCould be the slip of a fingertip