we are all slowly dying.
breathing through rotten lungs
and loosing our sight.
most of the time i'm dead inside.
but i found a cure,
nothing but the windows down
breathing through rotten lungs
and loosing our sight.
most of the time i'm dead inside.
but i found a cure,
nothing but the windows down
the smell of changing leaves,
winding roads, and loud music.
winding roads, and loud music.
i'm in love with this
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