Miss me, I'll be on my own
A flyaway loon, that's my story
You, there's no place around.
If you try to rebel I'll catch a lorry
If I have to choose I'll be unbound
Foxy sunbeams fall across corn fields and abandoned farms
Rattles clank on fiery sand,
Dusty road to July mead n' gold greens wonderland.
ride, go, creep
© Copyright: Запах Сарсапарели, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117081409527
Свидетельство о публикации №117081409527
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