I’m constantly reminding me what is wrong
And chaining me on melancholy
Maybe this is what I can be
The touch of young love
Divine as the moments stop in time
And we are promissing whats yours is mine
Yes, I’m whispering your name in the lonely night
Telling me I’ll be fine
Now you are better off, and I try to be kind
Your friends asking me
I’m asking them
In exile there is no talk about such and such or now and then
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