Prolog

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Every Sunday's getting more bleak
  A fresh poison each week
    "We were born sick"
       you heard them say it
        My church offers no absolutes
         She tells me "worship in the
          bedroom"
        The only heaven I'll be sent to
       Is when I'm alone with you
    I was born sick, but I love it
Command me to be well.

Good God, let me give you my life...

Two Faces || Larry StylinsonOpowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz