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tarrynPoems
Over my dead body She brushed the grit and grime From her swollen hands You're a lost cause little lonely boy You ain't got nothing If you got nothing left to lose Nothing If got nothing left to prove If you're all out of moves You're just a lonely boy A lonely boy crying wolf I've played with them Them weary wolves They'll sink those sharps in it Get up on it Pack of howls they are No beatin Wise as owls they are Comes to eatin So over my dead body Little lonely boy You play with bees you get stung You play with them wolves You wont dry out You'll be strung up and hung
0
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 4:31 AM UTC
Wolf
Over my dead body She brushed the grit and grime From her swollen hands You're a lost cause little lonely boy You ain't got nothing If you got nothing left to lose Nothing If got nothing left to prove If you're all out of moves You're just a lonely boy A lonely boy crying wolf I've played with them Them weary wolves They'll sink those sharps in it Get up on it Pack of howls they are No beatin Wise as owls they are Comes to eatin So over my dead body Little lonely boy You play with bees you get stung You play with them wolves You wont dry out You'll be strung up and hung
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tarryn
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 4:31 AM UTC
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