October
Saturday 19 June 2010 photo 1/1
|
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
Visa toppen
Show footer