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When it comes and doesn't
fold before it's done
When it shades and plays
what you call a melody of
sense Your pretense
So hard to conceal what I
feel back when I was so
idly wild I'm awake now
tonight without sundays
mornings bruises on my
neck Quiet kind of thinking
not anything wishing I was
far away where trees drop
leaves as far as I can see
Arcee shivers beside me
scooping up the softness
promising shell be with me
forever Why does this
music make me sad could I
make a part of myself, true
When it comes and doesn't   fold before it's done   When it shades and plays   what you call a melody of   sense Your pretense   So hard to conceal what I   feel back when I was so   idly wild I'm awake now   tonight without sundays   mornings bruises on my   neck Quiet kind of thinking   not anything wishing I was   far away where trees drop   leaves as far as I can see   Arcee shivers beside me   scooping up the softness   promising shell be with me   forever Why does this   music make me sad could I   make a part of myself, true