Memory comes when memory's old
I am never the first to know
Following the stream up north
Where do people like us float
There is room in my lap
For bruises, asses, hand claps
I will never disappear
For forever I'll be here
Whispering
Morning keep the streets empty
For me
I am never the first to know
Following the stream up north
Where do people like us float
There is room in my lap
For bruises, asses, hand claps
I will never disappear
For forever I'll be here
Whispering
Morning keep the streets empty
For me
1 comment:
well said lovely.
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