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It's been said that love kills.
But it's a beautiful death, ta have somethin worth dyin over.
Nothin is more bittersweet than when it's yer lover that twists th knife.
She calls me beloved. I 'm hers,
she's mine.
No one can hurt me like she can.
No one loves me like she does.
How could they, if they knew what she knows?
Eliza Dane Back
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