![]() | Пятница, 18.05.2012, 08:38 | ![]() |
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A Touching Display With all the front And more besides Bitch, thrust, and parry And a few asides With considerable charm You chose not to decide I really like you Becomes my massage I really want you Becomes my message But how long can we sustain Ourselves apart? The pressure's increasing it Squeezes my heart I bought a ticket You took a walk So much to say We're unable to talk Suffering in silence Our eyes give it away So close as we part A touching display Colouring my thoughts Predominately grey and Fighting bravely Will she save me? From what or who I do not know |
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