262102
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Sometimes he dreams of dying on a train
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60800
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Down Hawkling Street, The shadows have come and gone The bar, torn apart from the cold and lonely bullets The lights, they stay awake No more kisses She waits for the empty company A shallow visitor to use and abuse As she walks, they…
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113455
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Crawl to the dark places I love most, loud music and off key laughter, glimmering green and brown bottles eagerly holding the dim lights overhead inside themselves like ransomed stars.
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