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Most times she's not, she's strong like her mother and sharp like a fox. Night times she goes to bed crying - and she thinks of the moon as cold, but most times she wakes up smiling morning cigarettes and coffee never get old. With nicotine stained fingertips and caffeine stained T's she makes all the girls wonder, why couldn't that be me? But no matter how beautifully she smiles, and no matter how nicely she'll dance, All the boys claim to love her, She never gives them a chance. Because she fell in love once. Once a long time ago. But he left her the morning after cold like the moon and the snow. So now, she hardly ever eats |
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