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the pianoblood-stained keys, chipped and cracked,the piano
reincarnated songs of the same body and mind,
what i would give to not sing but speak,
so i could implore you, please,
for just one new melody.


DisharmonyYour excuses whistle throughDisharmony
the tattered remnants of what we were, no longer able to bind the fragments, plug the holes through which the cold winds now blow.
How have you been?
I'm good - working all the time - but good, thanks.
Kara
--
I can only show you pieces of God's green earth.
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