It was one of those endless nights again. One of those were she is convinced the only way is a bullet in the brain, just to stop her soul being in such pain. In the paradise mountains, between cotton candy clouds are painted fields of green. She has passed through there a hundred times and still passes by, like she had never seen. Now that the sun goes down, she must give away her crown, wash gently her face, and start acting like a clown.
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