If the eyes are the window to the soul then my window leaks/
The frame is rotted and the pain has streaks/
The leaking liquid running down my face/
Falling into the tissue guttering i need to replace/
If these tears could talk they'd tell the tales/
Tell the tales where my mouth fails/
No noise is made jus this leakin water/
If noise is made im for the slaughter/
Please don't tell anyone, this can be our little secret/
Under the carpet we will sweep it/

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