Sketch 13 Now : Zero
Friday, December 06, 2019
I remember walking in the cold of November
Hoping that I make it to the end of December
Twenty-seven years and the end of my mind, but
Holding to the thought of another time, but
Looking to the ways of the ones before me
Looking for the path of the young and lonely
I don't want to hear about what to do
Hoping that I make it to the end of December
Twenty-seven years and the end of my mind, but
Holding to the thought of another time, but
Looking to the ways of the ones before me
Looking for the path of the young and lonely
I don't want to hear about what to do
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