Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I sighing?
Old bowls empty of cereal,
Curtains made of see-through material.
Why am I,
Why am I crying?
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I dying.
Just me and a cube in the corner,
A rooted tube of squalor.
Why am I,
Why am I not flying.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I here,
Why am I here lying.
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I sighing?
Old bowls empty of cereal,
Curtains made of see-through material.
Why am I,
Why am I crying?
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I dying.
Just me and a cube in the corner,
A rooted tube of squalor.
Why am I,
Why am I not flying.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I here,
Why am I here lying.
