torsdag 5 november 2009

We might as well be strangers

I've been thinking and I think it would be much better for me if I went to bed around eleven, perhaps even half past ten. 'Cause I always start feeling bad around midnight. Every night. It's always like this, everything (or at least almost everything) has been good during the day, and then the clock strikes twelve and all of a sudden all these thought come crashing towards me they're impossible to stop.
It shouldn't be like this, so why is it so hard to change?
I don't understand you. Did I ever? Or did you just fool me big time?

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