a million lives that i lived in my mind
which one was mine?
so no matter how sincere i try to be
in front of your eyes
deep inside i know its futile
and even my love seems a crime
such honesty is dangerous ..they say
that look on your eyes says that you dont understand
while all the roads in the world are open for me
i know i am that crude-animal-hormonal thing called lonely
(everyone of them ended up as a poem..so why deny you?)
anna begins by the counting crows
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