The Walkmen
The Walkmen - Pictures Of Us lyrics
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Pictures of us In the spring. We were so young. Are we still, are we still Scattered around on the ground, in the heaped dry leaves? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. Pictures of us On the beach. Technicolor scars And the thing would smudge your eyes away. 'Kay, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. You'll mark yourself And be depressed