So you asked, wheres the sign?is it in the distinctive taste of your coffee?or is it in an amazing grace of a beautiful melody?you're tryin to fill up the empty holethat once, she was thereYou go all the way to Constantineto see the sunrise over the bridgeand still.. you are not satisfiedand with the bitter smile u ask,what we are?Haven't you notice?It has always been there..but you just refuse to care?**it's raining on monday morning, and i feel like writing..
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