And it’s the year of poetry
And we’re seventeen years old
Coated in sweat and beach sand, deep fried by the sun
And ours are the souls that steal the ...
Drive thru nights in sleepy hues, I'm lonely when I'm next to you by dr.pasteque
sweet and bitter in the suburbs where the cold wet blacktop is still and dark when the kids run off the play somewhere else, empty neon drugstores and ...
crunchy, dude!
2013-06-17 17:38:52 UTC