Bleeding

Bleeding
Bleeding

I was bleeding with my soul,

She was a fine girl,

And finally, I felt loved,

But the smoke inside my head,

Made me bad,

And I lost that mind.

 

Trying to find her again,

Was the absenceĀ of my mind,

I doubt I will find someone new,

I only die inside with time,

Counting on rhyme and little wine.

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