January
February 2010
Had a bad day, don't talk to me, I'm gonna ride this out My little black heart breaks apart with your big mouth and I'm sick of my sickness, don't touch me you'll get this I'm useless, lazy, perverte
All the phones have rung and rung Theyre off the hook, all but one And all the mail stacked up inside Up from the floor, a mile high And like one would, like a child Im asking Like I could knock on y
Lördag, gah vad jag ogillar lördagar... Dear God I found out the same things we learn when we die I found out the truth is it's all a big lie I find that the words are hard to describe I tell you
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