Gone
Song of the day;;
Father, I think I’m different
I don’t like playing with the other boys
Father, I’m different
I like the way the flowers smell
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
I want to cry but I don’t know how
My lips are chapped
But my hands are soft
Circles don’t fit into squares
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
On a high ledge, on a high ledge
(Man up man)
(Man up man)
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