It is just an instant, it is always but an instant.
I see the shine of your hair for a moment, knowing that won't ever come back, it was never here to begin with.
My heart, my heart is telling me something...something weird.
It tells me to go elsewhere since this wasn't mean to be anyway, and my hour grows late -while yours is just starting-
We got so close, and at the same time it wasn't really the case. Are those the kind of tragedies my life is made of? But I don't want them, I can't have them anymore.
All o this close, but not close enough, all these mirages.
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