i used to believe.
but now all i'm left with is a star. it tells me nothing. it shows me nothing. but it reminds me of everything. how can something so insignificant be so tremendously terrible but good?
"even the wisest men cherish a little nonsense now and then"
There's no combination of words
I could put on the back of a postcard
No song that I could sing
But I can try for your heart
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things
Like a, shoebox of photographs
With sepiatone loving
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