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the true beginning of our end
the course of true love never did run smooth
that would hang us (Quillayute)
it fell upon a little wester flower (forks)
before milk-white, now purple with love's wound (la push)
love looks not with the eyes (around the world)
that is the madman; the lover all as frantic (awards)
my heart is true as steel (ooc)
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