WOLOP.dec (Remove filter)
From the things I've done to you
Now your dead arm swings loose
And your bruised eye won't open
These things I've done to you
An evening among friends, descends
Now we're alone
Now you start on me again
Buttons all pushed, again
You try to stand your ground
But I'll always shout louder
Surely safer to just settle down?
Cower, out in the...
Tuesday 22nd December 2009 2:18 pm