Ahora, ya no escribo cuentos, ni tacho los dias del calendario, ni sueno que estoy preso, a la sombra de un jardin vallado. Ya no paseo por el mercado
: Ahora, ya no escribo cuentos, ni tacho los dias del calendario, ni sueno que estoy preso, a la sombra de un jardin vallado. Ya no paseo por el mercado
Last night I heard my own heart beating Sounded like footsteps on my stairs Six months gone and I'm still reaching Even though I know you're not there
Run away nowhere Two chicken chicks, two things I'm gonna go there The fear I cannot taste You think you got me (You laugh) You're gonna tumble down (
Here I am gullible for now Here I am a solid box for now This is only for now But I'm not so sure Seems the box hit the windshield More than ever before
So now I am oldest One self-indulgent tyrant I will attempt to to sum my point-of-view Yeah I know what's right Beneath your best intentions At the heart
18, damned and defiant Against the lies of this world I couldn't keep quiet Off with my hair, I made my alliance Not a show of fashion, but an act of
Blown like the wind, restless again My only friend has gone away Washed like the tide but I'm still alive I'm gonna drive all night long This is crazy
Here speaks the voice of reason It's talking to me loud and clearly And obviously, it's something to say Here comes another sentence It is relentless
Baby just ask once more 'Cause I saw your door wide open, but the floor is still freezing. Hailey, I was sick and I'm still quite unwell. Tell me it's
You make me go through your changes Already gave you my heart and my everything Now you turn away You made me tell you my deepest fears By the faith I
I remember all those nights, your voice would shake from the tears you cried, whats the meaning of this life? Guilt can bring you to your knees. You
This here and now with you This here and now with you Oh, please don't ask me who I am or when and where my life began Or why I ended up like this or
Why make the past your sacred cow? Why guess you've changed? You've changed and how Yeah, yeah, yeah Fruit's grown rotten on the bough Reap what you
Augusta, Georgia, late September One Mr. Brown's hot tempered This man's possessed, he's restless He's armed and dangerous, drugged and reckless Mrs.