I sit beside you shoulder to shoulder
your pencil draws a curve on my blank paper
I think that is the massage of advance army
I feel your secret
is the technology question I cant solve
the path is spread with corpses and people footprints
I gave you a smile
you didn't catch it
it dropped on the ground
and was smashed into pieces
your tears is a kind of glue
you picked up my smile
therefore it was on your face
to record the veins of cracks
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