#2278

[kirby-the-gorb]

[mostbelovedwrestlertournament]

Most Beloved Wrestler Tournament

#2278

Seth Rollins

Trent Seven

Voting ended onApr 16

[2278slots]

美女 大长腿 😍

[chris-tarrant-official]

Question 27

A

B

C

D

Voting ended onMar 28, 2024

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: January 1, 1985

Lyrics:

I guess I kind of sort of know

I ought to be thinking of you

But a friendship′s built on trust

And that's something you never do

Well who knows - maybe tomorrow

We can share each other′s sorrow

And compare our graveside manner

As we wave our lonely banners

If you ever think of me

I'll be thinking of you

If you decide to change your views

I'm thinking of you

You can walk away from loneliness

Anytime you choose

And you′re the sort of person

That hasn′t anything to lose

But who cares - maybe tomorrow

You can lead and I could follow

So walk where angels fear to tread

For everything you've ever wanted

And if you ever think of me

I′ll be thinking of you

If you can spare an hour or two

You'll know what to do

I could be the one thing there

In your hour of need

So if you decide to change your views

I′m thinking of you

Let's roll the dice

In a fools paradise

Share moonlit nights

Breathing nothing but lies

Let′s open our eyes…

We should take a bus

To somewhere else to something new

Thank God we're alive

And bite off more than we can chew

Do the things that just don't matter

Laugh while others look in anger

Stumble over four leaf clovers

And say goodbye to lonely banners

Songwriter:

If you ever think of me

I′ll be thinking of you

Through thick and thin

I bear it and grin and never give in

I could be the one thing left

In your hour of need

So if you decide to change your views

I′m thinking of you

Thinking of you

Thinking of you

Thinking of you

Terry Hall, Toby Russell

BandFacts:

👉📖

[albertxylin]

Broken Webs

A spider's web is broken, Whisked away like cotton candy on a wooden stick. Its foundation is ripped away, Effort and exertion erased from the world As if it was never there. As if reality violently rejected its claim. What remains, when your strength grows fragile?

It does not despair. It looks upon the barren ruins of what was once its domain, Looks upon empty branches where it once sat king, Looks upon the home that stopped being safe, And starts weaving another thread

[manoelt-finisterrae]

φοῖνιξ

@henricoudoux:  À chaque gonflement de la vague enflée comme un poumon, ces fleurs, baignées, resplendissaient, à chaque abaissement elles s’éteignaient ; mélancolique ressemblance avec la destinée. C’était l’aspiration, qui est la vie ; puis l’expiration, qui est la mort.

Les travailleurs de la mer - Victor Hugo 

© Manoel T, 2021

[redherringtime]

Honestly I’m not sure if I’m glad about the lack of udders or not.