Eight Line Poem
The tactful cactus by your window
Surveys the prairie of your room
The mobile spins to its collision
Clara puts her head between her paws
They've opened shops down West side
Will all the cacti find a home
But the key to the city
Is in the sun that pins the branches to the sky
Похожие новости.
Quando Mi Vieni A Prendere
Mia madre che ha insistito che facessi colazione e sa che la mattina il mio stomaco si chiude ho finto di esser stanco, ho finto di star male lei non ci casca pi?
La Tua America
Vai, non fermarti mai Lascia indietro i guai Cerca la tua America Mai, non voltarti mai Dentro ce la fai Se ci metti l'anima Con gli amici davanti a un bar Quando tutto ? noia E' il momento
Мама Ушла
Дома пахнет сосной, невозможно унять ее, И уже наготове лежит молоток, И шуршат незнакомые женщины платьями. Что случилось со мной, мне еще невдомек. Я не понял еще, что обломанной веткою Я остался с судьбою один
Sound And Vision
Ahhh... Ahhh... Doo, doo, dooohoo, doo, doo doo, doo, doo, doo, do-do, doohoo Don't you wonder sometimes 'Bout sound and vision Blue, blue, electric blue That's the colour of my room Where I will live Blue, blue Pale blinds drawn
Don’t Talk About This Love
I'm in so deep I'm scared to death It's like I could drown It's effortless I feel so juvenile Emotions going wild Love is brutal My Heart is fragile Please don't talk about this love The less they know
