I wish my breast were made of glass, and the sun shone brightly in.
For then you would see my heart and the letters writ within.
Then never would you feel an ounce of doubt or grief from things I’ve said or done.
I wish my breast were made of glass, and the sun shone brightly in.
For then you would see my heart and the letters writ within.
Then never would you feel an ounce of doubt or grief from things I’ve said or done.
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