sexta-feira, agosto 12, 2011

Brain Damage

There's a million different people in my heart
Like a tiny box with tin smiles and whisperings
I guess that's why I start crying like a child
When I ear you talking about marriage and rings

There's a billion different people in my soul
They're all coping and they're fighting in great mistery
There's a million diferent reasons to keep singing
Though I don't like to hear my voice recorded

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