Look at her, as pretty as can be.
Every day I wish, that that could be me.
She walks on by, not a care in the world.
And I clench my hands, my fingers curled.
That pretty little girl, loved by all.
How I wish I could stay, and watch her fall.
But high up she stays, as pretty as can be.
Oh God how I wish, that that could be me.
The Borderline 
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