tell me its not real,
that illusion that appeared
on your night where stars were glittering
and the moon were splendid
when everything are perfect.
and the perfection happened
without the picture of me appearing in ur painting
you don't paint loneliness anymore.
and i guess thats the end of the story...
that illusion that appeared
on your night where stars were glittering
and the moon were splendid
when everything are perfect.
and the perfection happened
without the picture of me appearing in ur painting
you don't paint loneliness anymore.
and i guess thats the end of the story...
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