Feb 26, 2016
It's an addiction So unpredictable Reflection in reflection I saw an angel Holy bones, you wouldn't know Her white smile bright up the darkest eyes He saw the scariest things Nightmares still hut him every night they play a fight "Choose your weapon!" his head is not such a great plectrum to be locked in An he says "I am the sun" What he must have done? I am so alone And so he was His voice may stops but words won't
“Bad poetry soaked in music” project // 1. The Smiths