Every lie speaks the language of love
You walked into my house last night
I couldnt help but notice, a light that was long gone still burning strong
you were sitting, your fingers like fuses,
your eyes were cinnamon
I just want to find a place where I belong
2 Comments:
....mutismo.
By Anonimo, at 8:57 PM
Flemma Mi sa che hai capito, grazie...
By unonessuno, at 2:03 AM
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