I see your daughter on the phone
The lips are moving like a thought I sleep on
It's ten procent to get me through
Good things are hard to come by
To come by, I come back
I don't breath at all, it's not like me
I can't walk the floor, seen the Devil
I can't see the door, smells like Heaven
I don't breath at all
Статистика страницы на pesni.guru ▼
Просмотров сегодня: 1