I have nothing to complain –
the illusion contains me dignified,
keeps me occupied.
Our love’s without a stain!
All the blood out of sight,
the illusion has me dignified.
Words are all that remain –
what of the unspoken tide?
Thinking keeps me occupied.
Mornings never bring rain.
Now that you have died,
the illusion has me dignified.
the illusion contains me dignified,
keeps me occupied.
Our love’s without a stain!
All the blood out of sight,
the illusion has me dignified.
Words are all that remain –
what of the unspoken tide?
Thinking keeps me occupied.
Mornings never bring rain.
Now that you have died,
the illusion has me dignified.
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