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Old 10-07-2008, 05:57 PM
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bookthief
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It

its' whispered by the wind that blows the leaves,
its' written on the barks of trees,
its' the reason you're skipping like stones,
its' true,you know,you love it so.

and when its' over and the wounds wilt the trees,
and feeling so intense it brings you down to your knees,
its' the reason you're sinking like stones,
we wonder why we love it so.
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