the frozen wasetland
of silence
that stretches between us
inhabited only by the failed attempts
to break the silence
and an ocaisional sigh
you turn on the radio
but turn it off again
not two minutes later
neither of us want to hear mediorcore country
sung by people who are too high pitched.
of silence
that stretches between us
inhabited only by the failed attempts
to break the silence
and an ocaisional sigh
you turn on the radio
but turn it off again
not two minutes later
neither of us want to hear mediorcore country
sung by people who are too high pitched.
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