Pardon Me
by Incubus
A decade ago, I never thought I would be, at 23, on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Woe-is-me. But I guess that it comes with the territory; an ominous landscape of never ending calamity. I need you to hear, I need you to see that I have had all I can take and exploding seems like a definite possibility to me.
So
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