Wayward
I've seem em come
I've seem em go
down to the Wayward Social
that's where I'll go
Where the floors are cold
made from wood of old
and the walls they whisper
of times long ago
But I will not whimper
nor moan nor gasp
as what's done is done
it belongs to the past
Coulda shoulda woulda
when I had the chance
I wish I could see you
for one more glance
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