New Is The Old Neue

Leaning against the wind as I stand outside a brick house.
Where love used to sit looks like an unforgiving sea.
And you lead a lonely life, and you don't need anyone, but how
can you sit upon a tower of crumbling pride?
To keep us from beginning again, I'll shut my eyes, bury my head.
Distract yourself with emptying glasses, and walk with your head held high.

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