"By one in the morning day is not ended, by two he is scared and sleep is no friend, and by four he will drink but cannot feel it, sleep will not come because sleep does not will it and I dont believe him.
Morning is mocking me.
I'll wander the streets avoiding them eats until the ring on my finger slips to the ground.
A gift to the gutter, a gift to the city the veins of which have broken me down.
And I dont believe him, morning is mocking me."
Laura Marling - My Manic & I
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