Baby, it's our hearts' slow beating
That make us grow old
I mean to say there's no one helping
We're digging our own hole
I'm reading your words
They're scrawled on the page
They lay here in silent rage
I'll hold you to this for as long as I breathe
Much more than whispers
If I ever found a one leaf clover
It would be you
Wishing that such heights were lower
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