Count one, two, three.
A song can be a poem,
And a poem may be a song.
I don't know what point I was left behind,
And I don't know how I turned remembrance,
How I come history.
If you discover the truth behind me, still be able to love me?
She doesn't cry, doesn't argue, doesn't irritate, doesn't despair, isn't a neurotic.
She is not real.
I mean, why would you choose a porcelain doll instead of a real woman?
I mean, you may be surprised.
I wanted to show the world that I didn't wanna be unforgettable.
I didn't wanna mark the life of anyone,
I just wanted be someone's life.
That was too much to ask?
If you discover the truth behind me, still be able to love me?
She doesn't cry, doesn't argue, doesn't irritate, doesn't despair, isn't a neurotic.
She is not real.
I mean, why would you choose a porcelain doll instead of a real woman?
I mean, you may be surprised.
If you write a song that makes your life more delightful,
Than to see how it really is,
Then the only solution is turn relic.
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