Not Sure What I’ve Become
I’m not sure what I’ve become:
the bitter, the cold, the distant.
Living in a land of fog,
I’m dreary-eyed and resistant.
No more lies, nowhere else to hide.
I’m not sure what I’ve become:
the bitter, the cold, the distant.
Living in a land of fog,
I’m dreary-eyed and resistant.
No more lies, nowhere else to hide.
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