to the bad lad
there is a somber raven scratching at my window
and she’s not here to fix my broken hearted blues,
i am strung out like a kite on a line
it was an evil hour that brought me to this place,
loss is when you love someone more than yourself
and they die, go away or leave you, than you know loss
i don’t know what i’m doing from one minute to the next,
that’s what tortures me…but i definitely know why
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment