Blah blah BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Well as you can see not much is going on. So Im going to write poetry.
Why wont you call?
I have nothing better to do at all.
I sit home alone.
Wating for you get on the phone.
You never will I know,
Just like it never snows.
A feeling in my gut,
Like a great red cut
creeps in and holds me to it.
All I can do is wait and sit.
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