vahel on mingid sõnad minu peas. või südames. või kus iganes sõnad olla saavad. kopsus.
(please please please do not butcher those wannabe poems with google-translate)
Monday, 24 October 2011
Would you fancy being my Pangaea?
And it feels that all we ever do is building bridges just to burn them down
Every time thinking this one will take me over the river
But all you see each turn is another island with no way out
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