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I'll Put A Spell On You.
Sunday
Pain.
You just have to ride it out. You can only hope it goes away on its own, hope the wound that caused it heals. There are no solutions, no easy answers, you just breath deep and wait for it to subside.
-
Some other will do a better job.
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You chipped in
Coming home to a post-it.
Look for you.
I can hardly speak
Pain.
I am still.
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