It felt like Springtime on this February morning, in a courtyard birds were singing your praise..I'm still recalling things you said to make me feel all right. Though I'm far away I'll whisper your name into the sky, and I will wake up happy. The whistle of a train on a Summer evening..I went to meet you barefoot, barely breathing. And I wait for
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to megan: isn't summer so magical? It lifts you to new heights and you do things you never thought possible, from the most mundane things of not showering for two weeks thinking the salt water would be your source of cleanliness, to something so extreme as 'running away from home' only getting far enough as to the pond where you fell asleep until
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last night we sat there and smoked and talked about our lives.
525,600 minutes how do you measure, measure a year? in daylights? in sunsets? in midnights? in cups of coffee? in inches? in miles? in laughter? in strife? in 525,600 how do you measure a year in a life? ..how about love?
it's a strange feeling when you realize someone isn't what you thought they were, and how it's completely crazy you thought they were one way and hear how they really are, and you think to yourself how you've seen a side of them you didn't know, and you really don't know them at all. approach me in spring and our love will begin. it's also strange
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