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Angela (2)

One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock four,
Huddled in my misery,
Queuing in the downpour,
Washing away what's left of my cure,
At least that's what I call it,
Gold white and pure,
Five o'clock, six o'clock, seven o'clock eight,
I remember the way Granda went,
Don't want to share that fate,
But the bus is on the way,
Salvation at last,
Time to look to the future,
Can't be lost in the past,
Cos I know she'll be there,
With a hug and a kiss,
Nah, I can't go now
There's too much to miss.

Love you baby xx

A

aeyjay

@aeyjay

Hopeless writer, hopeless romantic, but going in the right direction at last.

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