(2007)
Wake up feeling good
Go to bed frequently lost in the wood
A soldier’s tale of soul winning love
No drunken stuff spewing out of my mouth
All over now out
Birdsong in the night
The sound drags a net through the twilight
Emptiness in computors bothers me
These are the seas in our minds
We make our own confine in time
Go to bed frequently lost in the wood
A soldier’s tale of soul winning love
No drunken stuff spewing out of my mouth
All over now out
Birdsong in the night
The sound drags a net through the twilight
Emptiness in computors bothers me
These are the seas in our minds
We make our own confine in time
envoyé par DonQuijote82 - 6/12/2008 - 11:01
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