Christine
Subrosa
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Whispers on the back porch
The don't want you anymore
He beat you till were raw
Then he took something more
Christine
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At school the girls call you a whore
Your lunch money on the floor
But they look you up and down
You found that you were weak
At forgiving enemies
So much darkness in that room
No one gets you, no one could
Never giving in
Never again