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Cannons

The Hawk In Paris

I've been thinking about the war
You had to start with me
And how you think it's time to end it
Take your worn out shoe, erase the battle line I drew
I think it's ime for us to cross it

Your turn your cannons home and
Spill the contents of your final round
I pour my bullets out until the last
One falls onto the ground

If you leave me now, you leave me
Better than I was before
If you leave me, if you leave me now
It must be bittersweet to believe in some halfhearted truce
When I've just run out of ways to hurt you
So many white flags in the dirt, nothing left for you to raise
While I keep on clean inside my pocket.






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