Aug 2016
Old souls are the most beautiful things inside of us.
They are a thousand of years old.
We can't paint them on canvas.
We can't write them in a poem.
And we can't play them on the piano.
They are a thousand of years old.
We can't paint them on canvas.
We can't write them in a poem.
And we can't play them on the piano.
(F/Where the roses wilt)
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