Lyrics Kind Of Love - The Correspondents
An
open
road,
foot
to
the
floor
Kind
of
love
A
cutters
to
the
cage,
flight
of
the
dove
kind
of
love
Cliche
fulfilled,
candle
lit
You
spin
around
to
some
poppy
shit
I
think
this
is
it.
This
is
it
Watching
your
drunken
stepped
pirouettes
Made
me
think
a
thought
I
haven't
thought
of
yet:
I
have
no
regrets.
No
regrets
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