the lovers.
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my wings were like quills dipped in gold ink.
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he was sweet as honey, and sour as lemons.
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let's go to the garden, one last time.
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i want my wings back.
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holy, holy, holy.
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liquid gold ran through my veins.
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roses always remind me of him.
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i always played the harp back at home.
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some images that remind me of heaven and water ❤
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