One Sunday night, I fell inlove,
Her beauty saved me from despair.
Between kisses, she said; "I see myself in you."
I kissed her back, replied; "It's probably the hair."
She doesn't love me back, like nobody ever will,
So I crawl back to my bed in familiar Quarantine.
There, I'll sleep forever and go nowhere,
For it's time to accept that the grass is never green.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
One Sunday night, I fell inlove,
Her beauty saved me from despair.
Between kisses, she said; "I see myself in you."
I kissed her back, replied; "It's probably the hair."
She doesn't love me back, like nobody ever will,
So I crawl back to my bed in familiar Quarantine.
There, I'll sleep forever and go nowhere,
For it's time to accept that the grass is never green.
For Angie.
