just five years young.
thought the common green days brought us home.
there were problems in this world,
that only the concentrated can lie about.
we drank from our hearts,
we sang from the depths of our falls.
and the only sight of flight,
was the one that made the sun go down.
drop the scenic route,
real feels surreal.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment