Is there any other kind young without any clues? I'm a Helen Keller blind off key singing the blues. Fire's desire demands touch forbidden by all I've heard. West Side Story is too much. I Love You forever my word.
I don’t want to remember, this last month of November. Gouge it from my eyes, carve it off my lips, scrub it from my soul. You see, the moon rests high, while the tides pulled low and waiting for that change merely hardens the soft blow.
I died. Doesn't matter how. Behind a ***** or a plow Don't kneel at my grave sing loud hallelujah brave. My life has been a dying of the broke vows lying.