Last Day In Bouville
Nothing
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I'm just an amateur at heart
I'm just a harmless lie, I'm just time you need to kill
Have you straightened out your troubles my friend?
Have you straightened out your troubles my friend?
This illness is not inside me
I am the one who is within it
The one who's forced to see
Dear Achilles, it's time that I let go
I've fought twenty eight rounds
And I have lost, every one
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Some of the days
You'll miss me honey
And when you leave me