scatological catalogue
of unrequited memories
best left buried
2 years ago
Sunday, November 2, 2008
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I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
But I grow old and I forget your name.
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
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