"To find the fount of sound
That hears the touch of my tears
Smells the taste of all we waste
Could feed the others
But we smother each other with the necter
And pucker the sour
A bittersweet weather"
That hears the touch of my tears
Smells the taste of all we waste
Could feed the others
But we smother each other with the necter
And pucker the sour
A bittersweet weather"
0 comentários:
Enviar um comentário