Over lines of ones and zeroes
You sent me songs of love and hate
Over thick tense air
I'm more visible than ever
This body is a mould of a soul
My body is the mould on my soul.
Peculiar little fringe veiled frowns
You're not smiling
"Yes I am"
Well fine; you are then
But you're sad
"We're all a bit sad"
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Well that's rather special really.
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