the rush of an absent serendipity rips through me,
I sense the vain but I can't seem to pull away it's really heavy,
And with every last piece of grace I pray that you're happy,
In many nights to come I know this repertoire will die slowly.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
the rush of an absent serendipity rips through me,
I sense the vain but I can't seem to pull away it's really heavy,
And with every last piece of grace I pray that you're happy,
In many nights to come I know this repertoire will die slowly.
