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sad poetry

um por um, como sae de uma árvore
a noite era preta e drear
os dias hypocritic
nunca em toda minha vida
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
onde deva mim encontre-o
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway
alguns dos hurts que você se curou
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
sadly falando
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré

 



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