Monday, July 10, 2006


the canvas is not clean,
there is a little bit of dirt in everything,
we hit a point of no return,
you and I,
what's next I do not want to see...

fingerwing, fingerwing, fingerwing,

this lyric I'm writing without a melody,
the bleeding has not stopped since you
poked me,
what can I do other than running away,
catch me...

waving, waving, waving.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home