When you’re young, cities seem magnificent no matter what. Wide-eyed/ you look up to all the buildings crowned with wreaths of ice, speak fondly/ all the streets, mouth full with knowing This is home.
Read MoreWhen you’re young, cities seem magnificent no matter what. Wide-eyed/ you look up to all the buildings crowned with wreaths of ice, speak fondly/ all the streets, mouth full with knowing This is home.
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