The nice

Diary of an empty day

The nice
There's no particular season
To lose your wit or your reason
It comes without warning
It might be today or the morning
I can't think what to say
My mind's a blank today

I want to write words to this music
But my head's all set to refuse it
I can't think of words to this music
No reason or rhyme to abuse it
I can't think what to say
My mind's a blank today

I could write a book this way
A diary to an empty day
I could write a book
Fourteen lines in fourteen days

I could write a book
A diary to an empty day

I want to write words to this music
But my head's all set to refuse it
I can't think of words to this music
No reason or rhyme to abuse it
I can't think what to say
My mind's a blank today

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