Less of me,
More of we
There is no getting passed compromise
But your eyes
The morning sun envies your eyes
And I sympathize with the sun’s envy
Maybe compromise is somewhere
In Me
Because your eyes
Yes, those lovely eyes
Grow wings on butterflies
Humming birds sing them lullabies
If more of we
Means less of me,
Then less of me will compromise
So more of we can wake up to your eyes
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