my brakes keep squealing and somehow i never seem to stop enough
i want to hold you in some kind of early afternoon light
glistening with the cold bright winter light sweat of a morning well done
"no one's relationship lasted through that summer"
and i wonder how true that can be
and what made all these people feel so crazy around each other all at the same time
"that's what happens when it doesn't snow for a year"
sometimes the answers seem to be straightforward after all
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