Sonntag, 20. März 2011

She was walking on the tables in the glasshouse,
Endearingly bedraggled in the wind,
Subtle in her method of seduction,
Twenty little tragedies begin

And she would throw her feather-boa in the road,
If she thought that it would set the scene,
Unfittingly dipped into your companions
Enlightened them to make you seeth

fuck saturday nights

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