eyes are the window to the soul and the lights in my house are always dimmed. everyones glued to that face of yours and only i know its all a mask. feeling like a black crow in a herd of geese flying south for the winter. of course, its more like north for the summer for me. avoiding mirrors for fear of looking myself in the eye to see what ive become.
doesnt matter which way the wind is blowing cause my heart always ends up being carried back to you.
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