Imogen Heap
In the mist, I listen.
Merry Miss, I implore.
Out of this old prison,
Grant me this last encore.
Echo then more than ever
Now and when it’s all over.
Hide and seek in my sadness.
Even then, how I shiver.
Amber friend, do remember.
Pray, don’t speak of this madness.
Friday, May 23, 2008
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