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I was here
Do you ever think of me?
Do you walk through those worn-out woods, reminiscing?
Do you still stare at the back of my receding figure?
The clock is ever ticking,
But does your mind...
Do you walk through those worn-out woods, reminiscing?
Do you still stare at the back of my receding figure?
The clock is ever ticking,
But does your mind...
