I'm so confused, I'm so lost how the music stops, now that the ball has dropped like a man without a can, the rope the same lynched like a lover, caught without a net no hope for a return, no one yet to have met __Mr. Cornell, channeled thru Michael
the lost and the found, how my soul, how it returns back to home, back to you without a lover in arm or a guitar in hand the night she cries, where is he tonight... --His Wife, Mrs. Cornell
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