Minus A Holiday
With Broken Wings
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early years consist of only silence
his image is buried beneath a falling sun
a cold day
another holiday
your minutes turned into empty hours (years)
a cold day
another holiday
my thoughts of you are far from gone
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I'm not among
the boys whos bearings vanish
when autumns memories
become more vivid
the sound of your voice is
like a melody left unfinished