oktober
lördag 19 juni 2010 bild 1/1
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The miles start to hurt,
The days begin to kill,
It's all in your eyes,
It's the smell of your smoke perfume,
Soon love turns to lust, then back to,
Nothing nothing.
My hands fall all over you, not one moment goes to waste,
This room turns to fire,
I wont let go.
The days begin to kill,
It's all in your eyes,
It's the smell of your smoke perfume,
Soon love turns to lust, then back to,
Nothing nothing.
My hands fall all over you, not one moment goes to waste,
This room turns to fire,
I wont let go.
Annons
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