The way you clinch your grim forelock
Seems flowing by,like podre* of chalk
A minute i have,just sixty seconds
And if that flew,i would have no amends
Sometime they pass just looking for you
But i enjoy that,and yes that’s true
Sometimes i spend them on your smile
Which makes me happy,atleast for a while,
And then sometimes its just your voice
Which dumbstrucks me and leaves no choice,
To stop thy time,is what i think
Just 60 seconds,until i blink
When i see your face,all sorrow flows by
And i feel i can touch the sky
60 seconds is what i had,
To finish my story, which makes me mad
Because you are scenery,without a frame
To flow outbound and increase thy fame..
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 2:46 AM UTC
The way you clinch your grim forelock
Seems flowing by,like podre* of chalk
A minute i have,just sixty seconds
And if that flew,i would have no amends
Sometime they pass just looking for you
But i enjoy that,and yes that’s true
Sometimes i spend them on your smile
Which makes me happy,atleast for a while,
And then sometimes its just your voice
Which dumbstrucks me and leaves no choice,
To stop thy time,is what i think
Just 60 seconds,until i blink
When i see your face,all sorrow flows by
And i feel i can touch the sky
60 seconds is what i had,
To finish my story, which makes me mad
Because you are scenery,without a frame
To flow outbound and increase thy fame..
*podre-powder