The colors of a personality. Eyes still peer through.
What makes something special? It is the fact that is doesn't happen everywhere and all the time. Things that occur everyday lose that special feeling. Trips would be taken, days would pass, and the phone could barely be used. Upon return, thats when you recognized what was special.
Maybe I'm too old.
Or maybe I'm too young.
The days were turning cold.
And I was having fun.
Dance dance dance.
And do it again.
Dance dance dance.
All the way down Big Bend.
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