April
Wednesday 4 February 2009 photo 1/2
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You can't play on broken strings
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell something that ain't real
Running back through the fire
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late
You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel
I can't tell something that ain't real
When there's nothing left to save
It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late
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