What was left when that fire was gone.
I thought it felt right, but that right was wrong.
All caught up in the eye of the storm.
And trying to figure out what it's like moving on.
And I don't even know what kind of things I said.
My mouth kept moving and my mind went dead.
So I'm picking up the pieces, now where to begin,
The hardest part of ending is starting again.
sábado, 17 de julio de 2010
Question...
cuantossueñoshabrésuprimidoporesacosa...?
El inconsciente siempre tiene algo que decir, y creo que su única forma de comunicarse con mi "consiente" es a través de mis sueños... o pesadillas
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