Where are your eyes under the cloak of smoke?
The singer explains that often at night he lies, but I knew you were not an artist. Music is my taste, just bad enough to make one-legged dance. If I was 13, I feel beautiful and powerful. I have ten more, and unfortunately I sacrificed my carelessness on the hotel of virtue.
So I go into the city, my not lengthen my way and my voice is silent without knowing about it. The lights obsess me, the lights do not obey me. Swinging arms, I want a road that is not traced.
we learn from the past. I have not made mistakes, because I knew to let me live. I just knew I was not alone.
Pulse premonition of a death foretold.
controls nothing and be a woman, tall and beautiful, happy and worried. That's how beautiful you are. That's how you're vulnerable. That's why you protect yourself? Or that you do not protect. If you like happiness away, I understand you. Complexity is exciting, superficiality we often gray. Opposites attract us and the worlds mingle. The harmony of Nature is at the expense of men. Do they deserve anything?
I think if your eyes cross mine, it does not happen to you. I do not understand your gestures when I do not see your eyes. I did not understand your body, too distracted by the other. I am like the plague, fever will not die.
They sing? We dance? You drink? There are drugs? Or maybe we talk?
Talk and for many a problem. For me it is a solution.
With few words, I removed this text any reason. But you just do not want. So I write.
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