She said he couldn't find the right man So would rather not understand pretend to understand money rush Buy from the hope and sell from the regret Come and go free and never wait for your voice The bitter neon lights of the bar Let him forget he's in the red for a while Wanton shakes the illusion attached to each strategy Where are the gods good enough No miracle happens He had to take advantage of the liquor to release his sincerity Gaze at each argument deliberately but only see oneself also not enough consciousness Pushed open the closed market in the night to wipe the tears on his face Then gallop at the strange end of the heights Until the world forgot about him
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