Flicking through her horoscope. She's entranced by the message. Moved like an innocent child. She's not content to sell her dream. In a picture-frame of despair.
How have you been, nice to see you again. How quickly these conversations seem to end. You meet a friend, every now and then. How quickly these relations turn into trends.
Something missing. Left behind. Search in circles. Every time I try. I've been here before. I've seen you before. . I can't escape walking down these halls.