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2
To die by your side
Saturday night, the words falling from her lips
Are you lost, little girl?
womb
of my own making, i walk a dark corridor, o my heart
Some nights, alone, he thinks of her, and some nights, alone, she thinks of him
In the dead silence of a night in New York
The flowers smiled, but she was gone
Slipping away from myself
There Is a Light that Never Goes Out
Editor Log: November 2007
45,000 Rolls in the Darkroom
Let's tear down build up smashing a new world
semen
Stop
am
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