10 min reading
Cannonball
Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
Still a little bit of you
laced with my doubt
Still a little hard to say what's going on
Still a little bit of your ghost,
your witness
Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That I can't say what's going on
Stones taught me to fly
Love ‒ it taught me to lie ...
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