HAUPTBLOG.

Freitag, 31. August 2012



No more tears 
my heart is dry I don't laugh and I don't cry I don't think about you all the time But when I do I wonder why You have to go out of my door And leave just like you did before I know I said that I was sure But rich men can't imagine poor.
One day baby, we'll be old Oh baby, we'll be old And think of all the stories that we could  have told Little me and little you Kept doing all the things they do They never really think it through Like I can never think you're true H e r e   I   g o   a g a i n   t h e   b l a m e The guilt, the pain, the hurt, the shame The founding fathers of our plane That's stuck in heavy clouds of rain.
One day baby, we'll be old Oh baby, we'll be old And think of all the stories that we could have told.

Keine Kommentare:

Kommentar veröffentlichen