So many times,
You fell asleep on my bed,
At noon, or by night,
And I sat beside you,
Rolling a joint,
And everything Was.
A company felt
In the imitations of
Immortality
A distraction,
A perfect waste of time.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 5:37 AM UTC
So many times,
You fell asleep on my bed,
At noon, or by night,
And I sat beside you,
Rolling a joint,
And everything Was.
A company felt
In the imitations of
Immortality
A distraction,
A perfect waste of time.