the wages of dying is love - tw walsh lyrics
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send me back from whence come the tracks. send my wife a flower and a knife. for the words have stopped coming and my legs began running. but the worst is the fact that this world is a trap. it was only a way to see if i would stay. craft is a farce because love is so sp-rs-, and art cannot compare to the worst love affair. god has to exist if we are born inside a kiss. but the truth is in my lap: this world is just a trap.
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