I hear a lot about sinners Don't think that I'll be a saint
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I hear a lot about sinners Don't think that I'll be a saint
Yours was the first face that I saw I think I was blind before I met you
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
Tastes so sweet, looks so real Sounds like something that I used to feel
A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage
So let's be sinners to be saints