act: iii open with a smile. the wind rustling through your sandly blonde hair reminds me of exactly why i do this to myself. i've spent the last four hours sifting through love notes or so cleverly written upon napkins. i never thought i'd see the day you were disarmed. i've begun writing for my autobiography and the last page have been torn out. i've begun writing for my autobiography. i forgot to include the part about you. you know, the three year i spent chasing after something i couldn't have. you know, the three years i spent chasing after you. the concrete echoes the sound of our dancing shoes. this is our song although our love is dead. you think dancing in this tomb is easy? i'm just trying not to wake the dead.
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