The sky looks pissed, the wind talks back. My bones are shifting in my skin and you my love are gone.
I'll never say, that I'll never love. But I don't say a lot of things and you my love are gone.
So glide away on soapy heels and promise not to promise anymore and if you come around again then I will take the chain from off the door.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
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