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AgentSeta — Wilt
Published: 2009-09-27 05:59:43 +0000 UTC; Views: 295; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 2
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Description
My nine lives were itinerariesand what a beautiful thing to be
you were digging in the dumpster, we were dancing in the sea
These soft hands felt cold to me
it was such a peaceful thing to see
we were dying, in our easy chairs
this dream was an apostrophe
it is such a natural thought to me
to end without a memory
These nine lives are dead to me,
and what a beautiful thing to be.
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Comments: 1
- is there are reason that there is one line that doesn't rhyme?
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