
Devil makes his money on the small moves
Sometimes, we remember our bedrooms
And our parents’ bedrooms
And the bedrooms of our friends
Then we think of our parents
Well what ever happened to them?
Not everything must end
Not every romance must descend
Not every lover’s pact decays
Not every sad mistake replays
Bit će tu svačega
Numere:
autor: DonTravolta, 05/01/2024
Desertscapes on the face of a girl were not the answer!
I wonder if they ever dreamed, they would get just what we gave them?
Arhiva

Sometimes, we remember our bedrooms
And our parents’ bedrooms
And the bedrooms of our friends
Then we think of our parents
Well what ever happened to them?

…the poets down here don’t write nothing at all…

Tell my mother I’m going home, I have been destroyed by hippie powers

As you tread your path through a jaundiced corridor
Where each day has no beginning and no end
There are those out here who claim to be so good
I suspect that Jesus holidayed in hell
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