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Both of us know how the story goes.
My fire comesfrom mother's joywho waddles and standson bending knee, breaking backfor the joy of me.I am inspired.  My fire sparksfrom your heart and mine
There's no worst enemy for an artist, than one's lack of abillity to do!  Waiting for one's muse is not the smartest. Sometimes, inspiration is a hard chew.   You must light the fire of passion yourself! 
It was after the worst friendship breakup of my life When I found you along the shelves in the old high school building.  You sat there, collected dust, and sighed in waiting.
For the man with a son who still looks like a child himself. he writes silly notes and always has candy in his pockets. How can somebody so young have the eyes of an old man.  
AWAY FROM MY BLANKET   In my blanket where I feel the warmth Where I am always comfortable Where I don't receive any coldness
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