My eyes are windows
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Callaced and rough, tough
skin cuts when touched.
This butterfly is blind, but he flew just fine.
There are rules of the road.
With the flap of my wings,
I fight the wind to find you:
My eyes are windows
Callaced and rough, tough
skin cuts when touched.
This butterfly is blind, but he flew just fine.
There are rules of the road.
With the flap of my wings,
I fight the wind to find you:
