inget går bra, inget flyter på. Går och lägger mig ett tag, hejsvejs. Ingen behöver veta om alla mina problem i livet just nu, fuck off.
Now I guess sometimes I wish you were a little more predictable
That I could read you just like a book
For now I can only guess what's coming next
By examining your timid smile
And the ways of the old, old winds blowing you back 'round
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