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| ISA | WYTHE AVE BROOKLYN |
And every time I fall, I am weak, I am sad, I recluse. Every time I fall, I get back on that wild stallion.
I ride towards the sunset that hugs the horizon line. My eyes wide & craving like a hawk stalking the desert sand.
I ride towards the sunset that hugs the horizon line. My eyes wide & craving like a hawk stalking the desert sand.
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