June
July 2011
Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door. Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before. And I wonder if I ever cross your mind. For me it happens all the time. It's a quarter
Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door. Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before. And I wonder if I ever cross your mind. For me it happens all the time. It's a quarter
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