Nov 02, 2004 23:48
Pity her pretty face
spit on from outer space
Wrote her slick seven digits
on the back of a paper plate
She'll strangle your soul
and then tell you that it was fate
Her hands clasped, my voice rasped
at the end of our second date.
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Comments 3
i'm mick and i'm adding you.
i advise you do the same if you know what's best for you. ;x
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