It's the moment that I've been waiting all week; to sit under the cold but comfy breezy night, with a glass of ice mocca for me and a glass of cold brew for you after a long hot day, The Adams song playing soft in the background, and I find myself flustered by the sparks on your eyes as you preach about fast cars. Baby it's a therapy, one that shook all the frustration away. Even if it's only in my head, I wish I could crystallized every beat.
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