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We made that song
I'm gripped by another's hand,
Who would strip me,
that who you said they would
The problem is as you said,
the one who loves you,
wishes you dead.
To her I say I say to you what I say to her
no doubt
you say the same.
If only love could be as air
unsullied by a name.
Only when it's night,
do I know that you were right.
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