Buried with me
Of montreal
Writing your name in the fog on my bedroom window
Speaking to voices of her in the dark
I know that there is nobody here
so why am I crawling on the floor
Speaking to voices of her in the dark
I know that there is nobody here
so why am I crawling on the floor
Its a lonely life
One that warps me with each minute that passes
One that I really shouldn't share
It's better if I'm not aware that I won't succeed
that my dreams will be buried with me
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