you tell me it's too much, can't make up your mind
so i stand here waiting hoping you'll be mine
i start to fall, and i start to dream
and i stand here hoping that i'll be seen
you and I, it's a tragedy
clinging onto broken strings, unfinished stories
pick up the pieces, bind them with me
the invisible ghost for all to see
your eyes won't wake up to me
it must be winter's lonely presense
- hark.
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