Rose |
The cold has
Come.
All the roses have
Left.
I go outside to pick them
They are gone.
With scissors in one hand
Foil in another
I stand there.
The wind blows.
The roses are gone.
The pedal...
Posted by on Sun, 06 Feb 2005 17:20:00 GMT |
the bluebird |
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him
I say, stay there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out...
Posted by on Sun, 06 Feb 2005 15:23:00 GMT |
