The Black Tulip.
- The Black Tulip.
forget my songs, forget my voices. - As wind blows, smoke fly.Forget my songs, forget my voiceThat- communicate within you.
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Art is an addiction. I am an art addict.
In my solitude, I am a rescuer of my own demons.
All drenched to death
it burns, it hurts.
Face of my ashes is upset- Ashes are only transition
- why to love and cry when you have smoke to keep you high?
- my life is a long story
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