Apr 04, 2005 20:11
and hunted it down like warm seamen....
lost and brought down by high cases of infanticide...
now where's the sand.....the art...
i knew it broken....
i knew it singing....
i knew it haunted...
here comes the day....here comes the day...
nice every time...it gets warmer....
my master...and muse...oh, die...and I'll
provide such an autistic child...for you...and you
only....