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Poem You - Fiddlehead
Talk to your ghost
Sleep with your clothes
I'll take whatever's left
In the waste of you death
Whatever's left
Of you death
I'll take whatever's left
In the waste
To ease missing you
And the stinging too
Of seeing blue poem you
Come home lights on
Come home lights on
Cause I'm missing you
And it's stinging too
To see a blue poem you
Come home the lights on
Come home the lights on
Come home the lights on
Come home