Its a toy land down there,
where the train flows chugging between the buildings
full of yellow lights and street lamps.
Its a reflection from the glass window where i used to wonder
if i was ever going back.
its a river of memory in this minute,
only a reminiscence of the past.
where the train flows chugging between the buildings
full of yellow lights and street lamps.
Its a reflection from the glass window where i used to wonder
if i was ever going back.
its a river of memory in this minute,
only a reminiscence of the past.
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