Friday, July 16, 2004
Once I start, I do not stop - rambling that is.
Your face,
it's in,
fluffy clouds.
Your scent,
it floods;
the air.
And when
you seem,
to fade;
I wonder -
if you
care.
For days
are long;
nights
drag out.
But still,
you haven't
left.
And your
face;
it's in
my teardrops.
Your voice,
it fills
the air.
Your face,
it's in,
fluffy clouds.
Your scent,
it floods;
the air.
And when
you seem,
to fade;
I wonder -
if you
care.
For days
are long;
nights
drag out.
But still,
you haven't
left.
And your
face;
it's in
my teardrops.
Your voice,
it fills
the air.