Friday, April 25, 2008

Untold

They don't make movies about people like us
I don't even understand how you do this to me
Sweep the hair out my face, sweep me off my feet
In the grass, in the moonlight, everything falls back
Asking me, what are you looking for?
I don't know, but I've found it in you
Lay here, lay here, I don't want to leave
Between your arms everything falls back

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