lips curl into smiles
the hand reaches around
no feeling of time
it's beading up on the window
pushing out room
for pain allowance
to feel that tear and burn
through dim afternoons
lost in the confusion
so we better race home
vanilla cokes and warrior
tournaments choking on lost words
remembering traded breathes
we have borrowed too many glances to tur
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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