playlist

Tug - text

Little miss runs away. Didn't think you would ever come back. As I turned my head.
I find my newest complication. She won't run. Won't fall. She don't talk to.
Anyone at all. Am I your sleepless dream? Can I whisper soft advice?
Am I the wind rush through the trees? Turning leaves of observation.
She won't run. And won't fall. She don't talk to. Anyone at all.
River rushes towards. A south city left behind. The Tug is moving at a walking pace.
Slithering up her spine. I won't run. I won't fall. I don't talk to. Anyone at all.

Text přidal Moonblade


Přihlášení

Registrovat se

The Economy Of Sound

Seven Mary Threetexty

Tento web používá k poskytování služeb, personalizaci reklam a analýze návštěvnosti soubory cookie. Používáním tohoto webu s tím souhlasíte. Další informace.