Sorry, I'm not here right now.
My head is clear in the clouds
Rethinking how I hear all the sounds
Letting the beat pound, pound me down into the ground
6 feet under.
Sand turning to diamonds from the heat of my soul.
Buried in addiction, hopefully my seeds will grow.
All this pain can I use it?
Man **** this life, lets make some music.
Oct 25, 2011
Oct 25, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC