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691

(post is archived)

[–] 1 pt

There was a time that the (47) pieces fit But I watched them fall away Mildewed and smouldering Strangled by our coveting I've done the math enough to know The dangers of our second guessing Doomed to crumble unless we grow And strengthen our communication

[–] 1 pt

I had enough metal and punk for the day. Im going back to the dead cause I'm gonna miss my fucking porch. There's been many porches I've loved, and each one is special, but it's hard