began.eleven.four.zero one
sorry this is a waste of your eyes, this glare is only skin deep
all that makes a dream, left time waiting missing the pain
how clever for you to be this way, to feel this way
you can not hurt me, you can not reach [but you can, have]
will i ever look like you, like your eyes
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
f