March
Sunday 20 June 2010 photo 1/1
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hello my wicked broh, your talking to slow, no flow no homo, more like a snail like a tail, allways in the end, pretend for a while your a little child, does your heart go wild? is the boring just a sulotion and adulthood just and instution, what to do? what should we say? maybe i should try to be gay, just so in someway i have to try, this lifes to shy, goodbye never before hello, the stars were not yellow, no need to be mellow fill the hollow with swirling things and ah, on the door, ring the bell, ring the bell for the old bell tell em the things you just write, tell them there standing in the sight, aight move along, sing that song than cant be sang leave thoose wierd dreams in the sand, let the moon reflect the sun put down that gun, empty your glass, take the past make a memorie a story to tell your kids, put your lipstisk on, Hun, leave thoose bad dreams on the stairs let go of the fears dry thoose tears leave em a stain, and close the door throw away the keys, and never to look back again. farewell dear beloved, white dow, i allways admire your love.
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