Saturday, July 11, 2009
my secret:
i wish i was asian
and the airs so heavy.. you can drown a butterfly
and i get the feeling.. that the bus driver isnt shy cause he's looking at me.. but nowhere near my eyes
and on the 42nd morning.. things aren't good but things aren't boring
are we falling or flying
are we laughing or crying
are we living or dying
i guess we'll never know
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1 comment:
Brooklyn I love you much.
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