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A room sometimes is a body With the loneliest view And the porch lights grow dim With every on-setting hour Where the stars seem so finite to you But love, it ain’t like the chemicals, babe ‘Cause the chemicals don’t hang around While everybody’s drilling for a fountain...
Read complete here at http://goo.gl/GNTG5e
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Wednesday, 28 May 2014
John Mark McMillan - Chemicals lyrics
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