I will never let them stop, I will never
let them pop, I will never let them scrape all of this redness that I've got.
Infiltrated her soul, infiltrated her
heart, infiltrated her mind, so now there’s nothing you can find,
But these pieces of my poetic soul and
my high. Sometimes I wonder if it’s me who’s blue, or if it’s the sky.
And I do not want to lie; don’t want to
be that guy. I simply want to be the one who takes you home to my mom,
And ask her what’s up, and I, I’m pretty
sure that she’d cry, if she saw that my girl is the prettiest girl alive.
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