We Don't Hide The Face

A Dead Letter Promise

Sell yourself for a dime a dozen lucky numbers. Let it all slip away, the silent release. You danced like a
Marionette, twirling as each shot rang out. I'm reloading in the distance and you better run while you still got the chance. I've been waiting for you to call the ground home. I'm giving up, its over. Come lay with me. I'm giving up on my dreams of you and a better life. Its over.

Tracker

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