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Comments about Liza Gonzales
Inches From A Sunny Death
Terminal degree stuck livin life on a standard level decreasing
Each breath unfazed through the pain
Repressed fog that deepens the under-managed cuts of stress
Feed me till I'm dead and wave good bye like at nighttime and the sky is black and radiant
Just wait in the end when the roses decay to pink perfect fragments of butterflies
Just wait in the end when the song is finished and pools of maroon soon begin to flow
Just wait in the end the reason before unattended will soon be written and saved for future redemption.