Meeting You Halfway

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I'm sick of your gamesjust tell me you don't love methey make me sick, all of your blamesthe only thing I really wished to bewas to be in your armsyou holding me in the rainsprotecting me from every little harmshealing all of the pains,giving all ...

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I'm sick of your games
just tell me you don't love me
they make me sick, all of your blames
the only thing I really wished to be
was to be in your arms
you holding me in the rains
protecting me from every little harms
healing all of the pains,
giving all of the trust in your heart
to me, loving me as I loved you
no matter your faults, they all make you the art
and no matter your mistakes, old or new
I'd happily belong to each of your imperfections
I'd be here to stay
gratefully kissing each of your defections
but I know that I'll only be meeting you halfway.

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