Sunday, March 21, 2010

Fucking tired the fuck out

A night goes by in a blink of an eye
Through a thousands moments, they'll all be gone
In the morning it's all just dirt
It's funny how an idea can be so worshiped and heart fluttering-ly wonderful
Just to be messed up like a newspaper left out in a storm


Clarity Spoken
Drink Plenty Of Liquor
It's A Full Days Work

No comments:

Post a Comment