sâmbătă, 21 mai 2011

fragment

I smell your weakness and it stinks,
You hit the bottom of those drinks,
And nothing changed, except your dreams,
The sins were crushed your fucking wings,
So you became just like that freaks
That you were hated when we're kids.

Scris la plictiseala. Daca vrea cineva s-o continue, e invitatul meu.