Lungs heavy with thoughts left unsaid,
no room left in my head for
side winding words shooting from all corners
of your mouth, always hitting their mark.
My ears left ringing, I'll spring for a feeling
outside myself.
A little new, a little broken,
can I borrow a sentimental something?
used, abused, old news to me
I'll sing you sweet nothings when you aren't listening.
Its only always the beginning anyway.
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