2 years ago
Monday, May 2, 2011
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poetry & prose
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la vie boheme
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sweet tunage
Posts
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.)