Less - More
I find myself sitting on a shabby old bed,
in a room where everything seems to be dead.
I stare at the ceiling like it wouldn't be there,
I find myself thinking of being prepared.
I have to be ready when autumn has come,
I should be ok when you have gone.
Gone, disappeared suddenly into mist,
gone, forever. Does it have to be this?
I sometimes still try to resist you,
I hope you feel the same way too.
Whatever way I try to forget you,
the more I fall in love with you.
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