When the aching is over,
And the moon is back,
I will feel really sad,
I will be a wreck.
When the butterflies are gone,
And sadness wins again,
I won’t be loved anymore,
And what will it be then?
When will I be able to love again?
Will I ever get passed this aching,
Can I ever love you normally,
Kiss you, make love to you,
Without this stupid shaking?
[edit] acing = aching [/edit]
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~ Maybe it won’t last forever, but who says the best loves do ~ November is all I know, and all I ever wanted to know ~
Laatst gewijzigd op 01-07-2002 om 15:04.
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