Send me a •3• and I will put my playlist on shuffle, write down the first line of five songs and give it to your muse as a poem from mine
→to; anonymous recipient
from; terra
—
you’d give up the world; take on the earth
well once again, we set sail toward the sky
what a shame, what a shame we all remain
you escaped like a runaway train
ready now, i had to clean myself off.
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