#33
Oct 10TH 1989...
Rain; Washing away regrets and tears.
A new start for all. Giving you a chance...
Cry me a river that shows only pain,
why do we always have to play such games...
Heavy tongue
monotoned speech...
There stood in a garden, a child sweet and fair
watching some fruit that hang ripening there...
On your mark get set go
Is the cliché we all know...
Closing my eyes and dancing around
feeling the moonlight soak into my skin...
Looking high and low for a friend
seeming to find that day to day...
There's a good kind of pain
An insane kind of sane...
Make A Stand....
The smell of smoke and saran gas...
He stood staring
Hearing the echo of their words...
Que Dios te bendiga
no te va entregar una enemiga mas que una amiga...