Sunday 27 May 2007 photo 3/3
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The men who love you, you hate the most They pass through you like a ghost They look for you but your spirit is in the air Baby, you're nowhere Her skin is pale like God's only dove Screams like an angel for your love Then she makes you watch her from above And you need her like a drug "I hardly believe in ghoststories anymore Captain Barbossa."
Annons